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Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WIST  MAIN  STREiT 

WiBSTER.N.Y.  MSM 

(716)872-4503 


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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHIVI/ICIVIH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  IVIicroreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


Tachnical  and  Bibliographic  Notas/Notas  tachniquas  at  bibliographiquas 


Tha  Instituta  lias  attamptad  to  obtain  tha  bast 
original  copy  availabia  for  filming.  Faaturas  of  this 
copy  which  may  ba  bibliographically  uniqua, 
which  may  altar  any  of  tha  imagas  in  tha 
raproduction.  or  which  may  significantly  changa 
tha  usual  mathod  of  filming,  ara  chackad  balow. 


□    Colourad  covars/ 
Couvartura  da  coulaur 


I     I    Covars  damagad/ 


D 


D 


D 
D 


D 


D 


Couvartura  andommagia 


□   Covars  rastorad  and/or  laminatad/ 
Couvartura  rastaurta  at/ou  pallicul6a 


Covar  titia  missing/ 

La  titra  da  couvartura  manqua 


I      I    Colourad  maps/ 


Cartas  g6ographiquas  an  coulaur 


Colourad  ink  (i.a.  othar  than  blua  or  black)/ 
Encra  da  coulaur  (i.a.  autra  qua  blaua  ou  noira) 


I — I   Colourad  platas  and/or  illustrations/ 


Planchas  at/ou  illustrations  an  coulaur 


Bound  with  othar  matarial/ 
RallA  avac  d'autras  documants 


Tight  binding  may  causa  shadows  or  distortion 
along  intarior  margin/ 

La  ra  liura  sarria  paut  causar  da  I'ombra  ou  da  la 
distortion  la  long  da  la  marga  intiriaura 

Blank  laavas  addad  during  rastoration  may 
appaar  within  tha  taxt.  Whanavar  possibia,  thasa 
hava  baan  omittad  from  filming/ 
II  sa  paut  qua  cartainas  pagas  blanchas  ajoutAas 
lors  d'una  rastauration  apparaissant  dans  la  taxta, 
mais,  lorsqua  cala  4tait  possibia,  cas  pagas  n'ont 
pas  Ati  filmtas. 

Additional  commants:/ 
Commantairas  supplAmantairas; 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  la  maillaur  axamplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  iti  possibia  da  sa  procurar.  Las  details 
da  cat  axamplaira  qui  sont  paut-Atra  uniquas  du 
point  da  vua  bibliographiqua,  qui  pauvant  modifiar 
una  imaga  raproduita,  ou  qui  pauvant  axigar  una 
modification  dans  la  m6thoda  normala  da  filmaga 
sont  indiqu6s  ci-dassous. 


I     I   Colourad  pagas/ 


Pagas  da  coulaur 

Pagas  damagad/ 
Pagas  andommagias 


□    Pagas  rastorad  and/or  laminatad/ 
Pagas  rastaurtes  at/ou  palliculAas 

r~~l^agas  discolourad,  stainad  or  foxed/ 
[}l1   Pagas  dicoior^as,  tachattes  ou  piqudes 


[^ 


Pagas  datachad/ 
Pagas  ditach^as 


r~7^Shovvthrough/ 
L^   Transparanca 

I      I    Quality  of  print  varias/ 


D 


Quality  in6gala  da  I'imprassion 

Includas  supplamantary  matarial/ 
Comprand  du  material  supplAmantaira 

Only  adition  availabia/ 
Saula  Mition  disponibia 


Pagas  wholly  or  partially  obscurad  by  arrata 
slips,  tissuas,  etc.,  hava  baan  rafilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pagas  totalament  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  una  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  M  filmtes  A  nouveau  da  fa? on  A 
obtanir  la  mailleure  imaga  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  tha  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ca  document  est  film*  au  taux  da  reduction  indiqui  ci-dessous. 


10X 


14X 


18X 


22X 


26X 


aox 


7 


12X 


ItX 


aox 


24X 


28X 


32X 


The  copy  filmed  here  he*  been  reproduced  thenke 
to  the  generoeity  of: 

Metropolitan  Toronto  Library 
Canadian  History  Department 


L'exemplelre  film*  f ut  reproduit  grice  i  la 
gAntroelt*  de: 

Metropolitan  Toronto  Library 
Canadian  History  Department 


The  imagee  appearing  here  are  the  beat  quality 
posalbia  conaldering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  In  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specificationa. 


Original  coplea  In  printed  paper  covera  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  liluttrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  Ail 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  Illustrated  imprea- 
sion,  and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  Illustrated  impression. 


Les  images  suivantes  ont  itA  reproduites  avec  ie 
plus  grand  soin.  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  at 
de  la  nettet*  de  rexemplaire  fiimA,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimte  sont  fiimte  en  commenpant 
par  Ie  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  solt  par  la 
dernlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'Impression  ou  d'lllustration,  soit  par  Ie  second 
plat,  salon  Ie  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
origineux  sont  filmto  en  commenpant  par  la 
premiere  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'Impression  ou  d'lllustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  — »-  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparattra  sur  la 
darnidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  salon  ie 
cas:  ie  symbols  -^>  signifie  "A  SUiVRE".  Ie 
symbols  y  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  Atre 
flimto  A  des  taux  de  reduction  diff^rents. 
Lorsque  Ie  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clichA,  II  est  film*  A  partir 
de  Tengie  sup6rieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  Ie  nombre 
d'imeges  ndcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  m^thode. 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

ft 


r\i 


HENRY    WARD    BEECHER 


FBOH    A    PHOTOQBAPB    BT    GUBKBT. 


f^ 


imrg  ^artr  '^m\tx'$  ^ttmons. 


SELECTED  SERMONS 


AS  DELIVERED  BT 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER, 


'-^'  ■  V 


IN 


PLYMOUTH  CHURCH,  BROOKLYN. 


WITH  A  SUPBBB   FOBTBAIT. 


PUBLISHED  BY  LONG  &  FARRELLY,  23  ANN  ST. 

1858. 


John  A.  Gbat,  Printer  and  St&reotyper^ 
H  and  18  Jkotfb  St,  lire-Pnof  BaUdtngg. 


r'^ 


MEN'S   EXCUSES 


(^ 


■' 


POR 


NOT  BECOMING  CHRISTIANS.^ 


►♦•- 


"  And  they  all  with  one  consent,  began  to  make  excuse." — Lukb  14 :  18. 


After  announcing  the  aboye  as  the  text  for  his  discourse,  Mr.  Bbkcber 
read  the  parable  in  which  it  occurs,  as  follows : 

"  And  when  one  of  them  that  sat  at  meat  with  him  heard  these  things,  be  said 
unto  him :  Blessed  is  he  that  shall  eat  bread  in  the  kingd(Mn  of  Qod.  Then  said  he 
unto  him :  A  certain  man  made  a  great  supper,  and  bade  many:  and  sent  his  senr- 
ant  at  supper  time,  to  say  to  them  that  were  bidden :  Come^  for  all  things  are  now 
ready.  And  they  all  with  one  consent  began  to  make  excuse.  The  first  said  unto 
him :  'I  have  bought  a  piece  of  ground,  and  I  must  needs  go  and  see  it:  I  pray 
thee  have  me  excused.*  And  another  said :  '  I  have  bought  five  yoke  of  oxen, 
and  I  go  to  prove  them:  I  pray  thee  have  me  excused.'  And  another  said:  'I 
have  married  a  wife :  and  therefore  I  can  not  come.'  So  that  servant  came,  and 
showed  his  lord  these  thinga  Then  the  master  of  the  house  being  angry,  sud  to 
his  servant :  '  Go  out  quickly  mto  the  streets  and  lanes  of  the  city,  and  bring  in 
hither  the  poor,  and  the  maimed,  and  the  halt,  and  the  blind.  And  the  servant 
said : '  Lord,  it  is  done  as  thou  hast  commanded,  and  yet  there  is  room.' " 

Christ  had  been  teaching  many  of  the  more  eminent  virtues  which  be- 
longed to  his  kingdom  and  to  his  calling.  There  were  some,  also,  who 
imapned,  in  hearing  him,  that  there  was  a  millennium  close  at  hand ;  that 
that  kingdom,  which  was  to  be  decorated  and  adorned  with  resplendent 
instances  of  men  who  were  to  exhibit  such  sterling  virtues  as  he  had  been 
descanting  on — ^humilitj,  kindness,  sympathy,  hospitality,  magnanimity — 
was  soon  to  be  established.  To  those  who  supposed  that,  in  the  kingdom 
which  they  thought  he  had  come  to  establish,  men  would  evince  just  these 
qualities,  he  said  :  "  Blessed  is  he  that  shall  eat  bread  in  the  kingdom  of 
God." 

Christ  speaks,  then,  a  parable  to  this  effect :  That  moral  excellencies  are 
exceedingly  attractive  to  men  that  hear  about  them,  but  that  they  are  apt  to 
be  repulsive  to  men  who  are  called  to  practise  them;  and  that,  in  reference  to 
those  very  things  which  led  to  this  admiration  of  his  own  kingdom,  when 
men  were  called  to  take  up  such  virtues,  they  would  find  reason  not  so 

*  Preached  b  Plymoath  Ohoroh,  Brooklyn,  May  88, 18G8. 


much  for  admiring  the  yirtues  as  for  excusing  themselves.    He  therefore 
spoke  this  parable. 

In  the  twenty-second  chapter  of  Matthew,  the  same  parable  is  giren ;  and 
there  it  is  stated  that  it  was  a  king  who  made  a  feast  on  the  occasion  of  his 
son's  marriage.  This  heightens  the  picture,  because  there  was  then  not  only 
a  reason  of  respect  for  going  to  the  feast,  but  a  reason  of  allegiance ;  and  in 
staying  away,  there  was  not  merely  disrespect,  but  disobedience. 

There  are  tiiree  excuses  given  in  the  parable,  although  there  is  but  one 
spirit  at  the  bottom  of  them.  They  amount  only  to  this  :  that  each  man 
preferred  his  self-interest  to  his  duty ;  he  preferred  to  please  himself  rather 
than  to  please  his  liege-lord.  The  excuse  alleged  in  each  case  did  not  cover 
the  ground  at  all.  There jjras  not  a  justifying  reason  in  either.  There  was 
nothing  in  the  circumstances  mentioned  by  any  one  of  these  men,  that  made 
it  impracticable  for  him  to  attend  the  summons  of  his  sovereign.  His  ground 
would  not  sink  from  under  his  feet  while  he  was  paying  this  duty  to  his 
king.  His  five  yoke  of  oxen  would  not  stray  away  or  be  lost  by  his  wait- 
ing. He  had  married  a  wife,  and  there  was  no  danger  that  he  would  get  rid 
of  her  so  soon.  These  were  mere  pretenses.  The  reason  was,  in  each  case, 
that  the  men  did  not  wish  to  go ;  and  these  excuses  were,  therefore,  mere 
pretenses,  that  covered  that  unwillingness. 

What  is  meant  by  an  excuse?  It  is  treason  given  for  disobedience,  or 
delinquency,  in  some  duiy.  It  implies,  always,  an  obligation,  an  unftilflll- 
ment,  and  some  reason  which  the  person  supposes  will  justify  or  palliate 
this  delinquency  or  disobedience.  There  is  no  virtue,  therefore,  in  an  excuse, 
unless  it  has  power  to  release  a  man  from  a  foregoing  obligation,  or  to  palli- 
ate the  non-fulfillment  of  such  an  obligation.  There  are  maiiy  duties  which 
are  relative — that  is,  they  depend  very  much  upon  circumstances.  The 
services  and  kindnesses  which  we  owe  to  each  other,  change— the  obligation 
varies  with  our  situation.  What  do  parents  owe  to  their  children  ?  They 
owe  love.  But  the  conduct  that  lov$  reijuites  varies  with  each  of  their 
children,  and  with  the  parents'  own  condition.  The  relations  of  men 
throughout  society  stand  on  definite  principles ;  but  the  application  of  these 
principles  varies  through  a  long  scale.  So  that  a  man  may  disappoint  ex- 
pectations, and  even  agreements,  and  yet  not  be  altogether  without  excuse. 
For  sickness,  calamity,  the  constant  incursion  of  other  duties  and  burdens, 
the  weakness  of  a  man  in  foreseeing  what  is  to  happen,  and  thereby  pro- 
mising what  he  can  not  perform,  and  hundreds  of  such  things,  may  be  valid 
excuses  for  the  non-performance  of  those  duties  which  are  relative  between 
num  and  man. 

But  there  are  other  obligations  that  are  not  movable,  from  which  men  can 
not  recede  excusably.  No  man  can  excuse  himself  if  he  fail  in  the  duty  of 
patriotism  as  a  citizen.  In  some  special  developments  of  this  dufy,  he  may 
do  a  certain  thing  or  fiiil  to  do  it ;  but  as  to  the  general  temper  and  spirit  of 
patriotism,  there  can  be  no  excuse  for  the  want  of  it  There  are  no  such 
things  as  excuses  for  the  want  of  honor.  What  honor  requires  a  man  to 
be,  or  to  do,  may  vary  with  circumstances ;  but  for  a  lack  of  the  central  and 


/  - 


M 


\¥^ 


% 


essential  spirit  there  is  ne  excuse.  There  is  no  excvsing  a  man  for  want  of 
truth,  for  want  of  fidelity.  There  is  no  excusing  a  man  in  any  respect  in 
which  the  obligation  includes  fiindamental  qualities  essential  to  his  moral 
being,  or  his  honorable  estate.  No  excuse  in  moral'  things  can  ever  ayail, 
when  it  relates  to  the  liiglier  forms  of  obligation— those  which  stand  in  a 
man's  own  nature,  and  in  his  relations  to  God  and  to  eternity. 

What  is  the  spirit  which  usually  grows  up  in  men  who  are  given  to  ex- 
cesses ?  The  habit  of  finding  reasons  for  not  doing  right,  is  a  habit  that 
grows  very  rapidly  and  very  insidiously.  It  enfeebtesthe  motives  to  right 
conduct,  and  leads  men  to  seek  rather  how  to  avofd  than  how  to  perform 
duty.  A  man  who  has  taught  himself  early  to  excuse  delinquency  in  duties, 
has  lost  moral  feeling  just  in  the  proportion  in  which  he  has  gained  a  facility 
of  justifying  himself  There  never  was  a  proverb  truer  than  this,  that  "  A 
man  who  is  good  at  excuses  is  good  for  nothing  else."  For,  though  there 
are  excuses  which  justify  men,  yet  the  spirit  of  self-excusation  is  always  a 
mean  one. 

Excuses  for  moral  delmquency  are  usually  essentially  false.  They  are 
pretenses.  They  do  not  state  the  truth.  They  are  rather  statements  made 
to  conceal  the  truth.  They  are  devised  merely  to  make  a  good  show,  and 
either  to  deceive  other  eyes  or  to  blind  our  own.  The  excuses  which  we  make 
to  ourselves  are  often  eminently  deceptive ;  the  excuses  which  we  make  to 
others  are  still  more  glaringly  so.  Nothing  is  more  common  than  "that 
wrong  is  committed,  on  one  ground,  and  that  then  the  mind  begins  to  search 
some  plausible  excuse  for  it^  on  another,  alleging  this  last  as  the  primal  and 
moving  cause  of  the  act.  So  that  men's  excuses  are  acting,  all  the  while,  to 
produce  delinquency  or  wrong,  by  the  very  fact  of  trumping  up  an  excuse 
to  make  the  show  &ir. 

Excuses  for  moral  delinquency  are,  therefore,  usually  processes  of  self- 
deception.  At  first  they  may  not  be :  but  at  length,  a  man  who  tries  to 
deceive  himself  comes  into  that  state  in  which  he  can  do  nothing  else  but 
deceive  himself.  A  man  can  put  out  his  eyes,  inwardly,  so  that  at  last  he 
will  not  see  that  a  lie  is  a  lie,  and  a  truth  is  a  truth.  Deceit  maybe  known 
to  be  so,  at  first ;  it  then  becomes  less  and  less  noticeable ;  and  finally  the 
mind  is  falsified,  and  lives  without  finuikness^  openness,  truth,  or  purity.  I ' 
think  that  one  of  the  most  terrible  spectacles  in  the  world  is  to  see  a  man 
that  has  destroyed  the  power  of  moral  judgment  in  respect  to  his  own 
action,  his  own  moral  state,  his  own  moral  character.  The  number  of  such 
persons  is  not  small ;  it  is  growing  more  and  more ;  and  what  is  more  re- 
markable, they  are  found  more  frequently  in  the  Church,  and  within  the 
sound  of  preaching,  than  out  of  it,  and  in  rounds  of  wickedness.  On  that 
very  account,  Christ  declared  that,  "  The  publicans  and  harlots  shall  enter 
the  kingdom  of  God  before  you."  A  man  who  is  an  open  sinner,  and  carries 
his  scars  on  the  outside,  does  not  pretend  to  disguise  it  It  is  bad,  bad ; 
he  knows  it  is  bad ;  he  does  not  deny  that  it  is  bad.  Without  plausibilities 
or  cunningly-devised  excuses,  he  sets  before  himself  just  what  he  is,  and 
says  :  "  I  am  a  drunkard ;  I  am  a  liar  ;  I  am  a  dissipated  man;  I  don't  pre- 


8 


tend  to  be  •  Christian.*^  But  a  man  that  has  been  brought  up  in  the 
Church,  as  it  were ;  a  man  who  has  had  his  conscience  pressed  and  pressed 
again  and  again;  who  is  forever  trying  to  find  out  some  way  of  excusing 
himself  for  not  being  what  he  knows  he  ought  to  be,  comes  at  last  to  thai 
state  in  which  he  entirely  confuses  his  moral  sense.  And  nothing  is  more 
common  than  that  men  may  bo  in  that  state,  with  a  certain  kind  of  exterior 
morality,  making  them  noticeably  good  in  exterior  matters,  while  they  haye 
actually  lost  the  power  of  moral  discrimination  in  respect  to  their  own  real 
inward  habits.  They  become  hardened.  It  is  said  of  such  persons,  that 
theur  conscience  is  "  seared  as  with  a  hot  iron.*'    They  are  calloused. 

The  spirit  of  excusing  one's  self  is  a  spirit  much  to  be  dreaded.  There 
is  some^ng  very  noble  in  openness  and  frankness,  even  when  exercised  by 
bad  men.  A  bold  bad  man  always  attracts  interest  When  a  man  does 
wrong,  and  says,  "  Yes,  I  know  it  is  wrong,"  there  is  something  com- 
mendiable  in  him.  We  feel  ashamed,  sometimes,  to  think  that  we  admire 
any  thing  in  a  bad  man ;  but  there  is  something  in  frankness,  and  in  truth- 
speaking,  and  especially  in  truth-speaking  when  the  truth  which  a  man  tells 
is  to  his  own  harm,  that  we  can  not  help  admiring.  On  the  other  hand, 
there  is  something  essentially  mean  and  detestable  in  a  man  who  is  always 
passing  off  a  kind  of  small  coin  of  lies — ^living  wrong,  feeling  wrong,  doing 
wrong,  and  yet  perpetually  imposing  upon  himself  and  other  persons  by 
excuses.  Making  excuses  is  a  very  mean  business.  It  is  like  the  manufac- 
ture of  bogus  money — ^the  issuing  of  fidse  bills. 

Let  us  look  a  little  in  detail  at  some  of  the  excuses  usually  made  by  men 
for  not  accepting  the  lifo  which  Christ  proposes  to  every  human  being. 

There  are  excuses  founded  upon  a  variety  of  doubts  respecting  the  truth 
of  the  Scriptures.  Let  me  say,  that  I  admit,  in  the  beginning,  the  possi' 
bility  of  doubts  in  respect  to  much  that  belongs  to  the  external  form,  and 
to  tiie  historical  connections  of  Scripture.  The  Bible  is  a  library  of 
books  that  has  had  an  experience  most  marvellous.  The  Scripture  contoins 
something  almost  of  the  history  of  the  entire  human  race  from  the  begin- 
ning of  the  world.  But  that  which  makes  the  Bible  is  not  its  dates ;  not 
its  exact  literary  form ;  not  its  precise  historical  accuracy.  We  have  the 
testimony  of  Christ  as  to  what  it  is  that  makes  the  Bible,  when  he  was 
talking  of  the  two  great. commandments,  and  said :  **  Thou  shalt  love  the 
Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  with  all  tiiy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  strength ; 
and  thy  neighbor  as  thyselC  On  these  two  commandments  hang  all  the 
law  and  the  prophets."  In  other  words,  the  whole  Bible  is  nothing  but 
just  thi&  This  is  the  marrow  of  it  This  is  its  essential  spirit  It  is  the 
revelation  of  man's  obligation  to  love  Ck)d,  and  to  love  his  fellow-men,  and 
to  evolve  his  whole  life  and  character  upon  the  basis  of  that  principle. 

Now,  I  say,  in  respect  to  the  great  mass  of  men  purporting  to  be  doubt- 
ers of  Scripture,  they  do  not  doubt  the  Scripture  at  all ;  and  that  this  is  not 
the  reason  why  they  do  not  become  Christians.  I  do  not  say  that  they  may 
not  doubt  Genesis ;  that  the/  do  not  set  aside  the  Mosiac  books ;  that  they 
do  not  find  a  world  of  amusement  in  the  old,  ungular  stories  of  prophetic 


'% 


i 


■V, 


n  ■■ 


!  . 


; 


times ;  that  they  eftn  not  find  fimtastio  things  in  Scripture,  snd  nuuny  things 
which  excite  a  smile,  especially  if  they  are  a  litUe  ignorant  But  I  say  that 
their  diflBcuIties  and  troubles  about  the  form  of  Scripture,  are  not  th*  rea- 
$on»  why  they  do  not  become  Christians.  It  is  the  power,  the  substance  of 
Scripture,  that  they  do  not  like.  It  is  the  insidious  reflisal  of  the  life  and 
conduct  which  Scripture  inculcates,  that  makes  them  turn  round  and  attack 
the  Bible  itself,  and  the  authority  of  the  whole  system  of  Ohristianity. 
Self-seeking  and  self-pleasing,  in  all  their  forms,  constitute  their  integral 
life.  This  is  the  motive  power  with  them.  When  they  open  the  word  of 
God,  the  declaration  is.  If  a  man  does  not  lose  his  life,  he  shall  not  sare  it. 
They  find  that  if  they  would  sare  their  life,  they  must  yield  it  up.  They 
find  that  no  man  who  is  not  converted  into  this  essential  element  of  love, 
who  is  not  bom  again— out  of  old  personality,  out  of  old  pride,  out  of  old 
self<seeking — and  bom  into  a  new  life,  of  love  to  God  and  to  his  fellow-men, 
shall  ever  inherit  the  Kingdom  of  God ;  and  when  the  pressure  of  this 
trath  comes  upon  them,  and  they  are  told  to  come  under  subjection  to  this 
law  of  love,  it  is  because  their  pride  says,  "  I  will  not  submit;"  and  their 
vanity  says,  "  I  will  not  submit ;"  and  one  after  another  faculty  of  their 
mind,  on  being  summoned,  says,  '*I  will  not  submit;"  it  is  because  their 
whole  nature  rebels  against  Christ's  law  of  love  to  God  and  to  man,  and  they 
reflise  to  be  clothed  and  controlled  by  such  a  spirit,  that  they  seek  to  flnid 
a  miserable  excuse  by  criticising,  condemning,  and  rejecting  the  Scripture. 
It  is  this  that  leads  men,  for  the  most  part,  to  search  for  reasons  offleubt 
The  effect  of  this  may  be  seen  in  the  different  ways  in  which  mennread  a 
document ;  as,  for  instance,  whether  they  read  it  in  a  spirit  of  regard  and 
gladness,  or  in  a  spirit  of  criticism  and  fault-finding.  Two  men  Tead  the 
same  will  What  a  different  instrument  it  is  to  them !  One  is  the  Mn«who 
is  possessed  of  the  property,  and  the  other  is  the  son  who  is  dispossessed. 
The  man  who  is  to  get  the  old  house,  and  the  ground,  and  all  the  property, 
reads  it  over  and  over,  every  line  of  it,  and  his  fiwe  lights  up  with  a  smile, 
and  he  says,  "  That's  good,  that's  right,  that* s  law,  that's  equity:"  because 
it  is  money;  because  every  line  of  it  is  money  to  himi  The  other  man 
reads  it,  and  scowls,  and  says :  "  It's  not  right,  it's  not  good,  it's  not  law, 
it's  not  equity."  One  says,  "  I  love  that  will ;"  the  other  says,  "  I  hate  that 
will"  Every  body  says  that  both  the  one  and  the  other  gives  a  fidse  judg- 
ment The  heart  worked  there,  and  not  the  head ;  the  head  had  nothing 
to  do  with  it  The  head  judged  the  document  just  according  to  the  heart's 
telling,  and  not  according  to  cahn  reason — ^which  is  cahn  humbug  t  Talk 
about  reason  when  a  man's  head  is  like  a  boOing  pot  over  the  fire  I  It  is 
the  heart  that  makes  men  think — ^with  the  mere  exception  of  sdentiflc  re- 
search. No  man  thinks,  except  by  the  power  of  feeling;  and  it  is  lov^, 
jealousy,  pride,  vanity,  avarice,  that  sets  fire  to  the  thoughts.  And  when 
a  man's  heart  is  on  fire,  and  he  says,  "  I  will  be  my  own  master ;  I  will  not 
have  Christ  to  rule  over  me,"  it  would  be  a  pity  if  the  intelle«t<  could  not 
find  flaws  in  the  Scripture  to  satisfy  the  man  with  not  being  •  Christian. 
But  the  moment  a  man  noantt  to  be  a  Cliristian,  and  is  touched  in  his  heart 


)iy  the  Spirit  of  Qod— the  moment  he  does  wiah  to  submit  his  disposition 

to  the  love  of  Christ— the  moment  he  is  touched  by  trouble,  the  moment  he 

is  crushed  by  sorrow,  waddstirM  to  believe— how  quickly  all  his  doubts  fly 

away  t    But  as  long  as  a  man  does  not  want  to  be  a  Christian,  as  long  as  ho 

refuses  to  yield  hlmoclf  to  be  controlled  by  the  Spirit  of  Love,  there  is  but 

little  use  in  arguing  with  him ;  he  can  never  be  answered ;  his  excuses  arc 

valid  to  him.    Therefore,  I  have  for  a  long  time,  in  the  main,  declined  this 

way  of  addressing  myself  to  unbelieving  men.    That  is  to  say,  I  have  de* 

clined  to  take  the  battle-ground  of  ideas  upon  ideas.    I  recognize  that  there 

is  a  fair  field  for  controversy  and  conflict— for  theologians  and  philosophical 

disputants ;  but  ordinarily,  in  dealing  with  men,  my  own  experience  has 

been  this :  that  the  reason  of  their  unbelief  has  been  their  low  moral  tone ; 

and  the  way  to  settle  their  minds,  in  respect  to  disputed  things  of  the  Bible, 

was  to  arouse  their  moral  feelings ;  for  the  moment  their  moral  nature  was 

intensified,  they  b^an  to  take  care  of  their  own  difficulties.     There  was 

no  more  trouble  then.    Those  arguments  which  they  array  around  about 

them,  for  the  minister  to  answer,  or  for  the  Christian  to  answer,  there  is  no 

need  of  answering.    The  moment  their  own  moral  nature  is  really  aroused, 

they  dispossess  themselves  of  their  own  trouble.    Generally  speaking,  no 

man  can  be  cured  except  he  cures  himself;  and  the  way  to  begin  to  cure  a 

man,  is  to  set  him  to  curing  himself    For  it  is  the  same  with  a  man's  mind 

as  with  his  body.    When  a  man's  body  is  sick,  it  is  not  the  doctor  that 

cures  it ;  it  is  the  medical  power  of  nature — the  recuperative  force  of  the 

man's  own  system.    So  there  is  in  the  mind  this  self-recovering  power. 

When  his  moral  nature  is  touched,  and  he  wants  this  higher  tone,  all  his 

difficulties  begin  to  disappear.    A  man,  who,  as  it  were,  yesterday  had  as 

many  objections  as  ever  a  tree  had  leaves,  to-day  has  not  a  single  one ;  and 

the  explanation  is,  that  yesterday  he  wanted  them,  and  to-day  he  don't  want 

them ;  yesterday  his  nature  inclined  him  to  make  them ;  to-day,  disinclines 

him.    He  now  wants  another  kind  of  life,  and  his  troubles  are  all  gone. 

In  general,  in  regard  to  the  obstacles  which  men  oppose  by  their  excuses 
on  account  of  troubles  of  belief  in  Scripture — ^look  them  tJirough  to  the 
bottom.  Although  there  may  be  such  things  as  real  philosophical  difficult* 
ies,  yet  that  is  not  the  reason  why  men  are  not  Christiana  The  reason  is, 
because  selfishness  does  not  like  .to  turn  into  lore ;  because  pride  does  not 
like  to  turn  into  humility ;  because  self-seeking  does  not  like  to  turn  into 
seeking  the  good  of  others.    That  is  the  reason. 

Excuses  ore  not  few,  founded  upon  the  difficulty  of  understanding  doc- 
trines, and  founded  also  upon  the  confusion  which  is  produced  in  the  world 
from  the  quarrels,  the  disputes,  and  the  doctrinal  differences  among  Christ* 
ians.  How  many  persons  there  are,  who,  when  approached  and  urged^  to 
enter  upon  i^  Christian  life,  say :  "  Oh  I  there  is  no  telling  what  to  believe ; 
nobody  seems  to  believe  alike ;  churches  are  all  quarrelling,  and  have  been 
since  the  beginning  of  the  world.  And  I  am  bewildered  and  mystified ;  I 
don't  know  where  I  stand,  and  I  won't  have  any  thing  to  do  with  it"  Al- 
though there  is  misconduct  in  the  disputes  of  the  Church,  and  has  been 


h 


11 


*• 


from  the  beginning;  great  and  reprehensible  violence  in  the  diieuasion  of 
their  doctrines ;  yet,  in  respect  to  the  things  that  really  pertain  to  the  salra- 
tion  of  the  soul,  there  is  almost  no  d^ffertnee  at  all.  There  is  difference 
about  church  goremment,  church  ordinances ;  about  the  terms  of  creeds, 
about  the  way  in  which  truths  shall  be  stated  in  a  connected  form,  and  as  a 
system  of  philosophy.  But  when  it  is  not  a  question  of  baptism,  or  of 
bishops,  or  of  elders,  or  of  ordinances,  but  simply  a  question  of  "  What 
shall  this  poor  soul  do  to  be  saved  ?"  I  will  take  the  inquirer,  and  he  shall 
go  round  with  me  to  every  church  and  ask.  As  we  are  going,  we  meet  a 
Baptist  minister,  and  I  say  to  him,  "  Tell  mo,  what  shall  this  poor  soul  do 
that  asks  to  bo  saved  ?'*  and  he  will  say,  "  Do  t  why,  let  him  break  off  from 
sin,  and  believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  he  shall  be  saved."  And 
that  minister  will  begin  to  labor  with  him ;  while  he  is  talking  to  him,  there 
comos  over  the  way  a  Presbyterian  minister,  and  the  Baptist  brother  says : 
"Here;  this  man  asks  what  he  shall  do  to  be  saved;  tell  him."  "Do! 
why,  lot  him  repent  of  his  sins,  and  believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and 
ho  shall  be  saved."  Close  by,  coming  round  the  comer,  is  a  Congregational 
minister ;  and  as  he  draws  nigh,  he  says :  "  Well,  brethren,  what  are  you 
talking  about  f "  *'  Oh  I"  the  Presbyterian  says  to  him,  "  here  is  an  inquir- 
ing soul ;  tell  him  what  he  must  do  to  be  saved."  "  Do  I  why,  if  he  has 
been  living  in  sin,  he  ought  to  break  off  his  sin  by  righteousness,  and  live 
by  faith,  and  love  Christ"  There  comes  now,  in  his  canonicals,  an  Episco- 
palian  clergyman.  **  Now,  here  is  a  man  from  the  true  Church,  and  we 
shall  have  a  different  doctrine."  They  stop  him :  "  My  dear  sir,  we  were 
just  talking  to  this  man,  inquiring  what  he  must  do  to  be  saved ;  what  do 
you  think  he  ought  to  do  f "  And  he  looks  upon  him :  "  Why,  my  dear 
friend,  I  don't  know  your  history ;  but  if  you  have  been  living  in  worldli- 
ness  and  sin,  you  ought  to  cease  that,  and  turn  from  it ;  and  if.  you  have 
been  living  witiiout  God  in  your  heart,  you  ought  to  love  Christ,  andbelieve 
on  him ;  and  by  repentance,  and  faith  in  Christ,  you  shall  be  saved."  Here 
are  four.  Now,  I  will  go  and  bring  in  a  Lutheran,  a  Metho^st,  a  Reformed 
Dutch,  an  Associate  Reformed ;  and  one  after  another,  they  will  say  the 
same  thing.  Finally,  there  comes  by  Bishop  Fenelon,  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church.  "I  say.  Bishop,  come  here  and  see  a  man  inquiring 
what  he  must  do  to  be  saved.  I  don't  want  to  talk  about  the  things  that 
divide  us  as  Protestants  and  Catholics,  but  this  poor  soul  wants  to  know 
what  he  ought  to  do."  "  Sir,"  says  the  Bishop,  "  the  Scripture  is  plain  on 
that  point.  Break  off  your  sins,  and  turn  to  Christ ;  and  he  will  have 
mercy,  and  will  abundantly  pardon.  Why  do  you  oih  me  such  a  simple 
question  as  that?" 

Now,  if  you  went  one  step  further  than  that,  and  asked  about  forms  of 
government,  or  which  is  the  true  Church  f  the  Baptist  would  say,  "  It  is 
my  Church ;"  the  Presbyterian,  "It  is  my  Church ;"  the  Cong^egationalifit; 
"  It  is  my  Church ;"  the  Episcopalian,  "  It  is  my  Church ;"  the  Roman  Ca- 
tholic bishop,  "  It  is  my  Church."  But  when  you  go  to  them  with  the 
simple  question,  "  What  must  a  man  do  to  be  saved ;"  you  see  how  they  all 


IS 


join  hands,  and  say  one  thing :  "  Belieye  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christy  and  thou 
ahalt  be  saved." 

Now,  so  ftr  from  there  being  any  ground  and  reason  of  excuse,  "  that 
you  don't  know  what  to  do,  because  there  are  such  differences  of  doctrine,*' 
it  is  Just  the  other  thing ;  it  is  because  you  do  know  what  to  do ;  it  is  be- 
cause you  know  there  w  consent  of  Christian  men  on  this  one  point,  namely, 
renouncing  self;  accepting  justification  through  Christ,  breaking  off  sin,  and 
b^inning  to  live  for  God.  They  all  agree  about  that,  though  they  disagree 
about  other  things.  And  you  pitch  at  those  other  things,  and  search  them 
out,  and  dwell  among  them.  The  points  on  which  they  agree,  you  take  care 
to  steer  dear  of.  You  say,  your  reason  is,  that  Christians  do  not  agree ; 
but  you  know  while  you  are  saying  it,  that  you  are  mean,  and  cowardly, 
and  a  liar.    My  voice  is  but  the  echo  of  your  own  consciousness  I 

There  are,  again,  excuses  for  not  being  a  Christian,  which  are  founded 
upon  the  inconsistency  and  the  misconduct  of  Christians.  There  are  a  great 
many  persons  who  will  not  be  Christians,  "because  professors  of  religion 
act  so."  Well,  I  think  they  do  "  act  so."  There  is  no  doubt  about  great 
inconsistency.  There  is  great  weakness.  They  live  fiur  below  their  light 
and  their  priviles^s ;  far  below  their  own  intention.  I  am  not  here  to  bind 
Up,  with  justifying  excuses,  the  delinquencies  of  professors  of  reli^on,  whe- 
ther ministers  or  laymen.  I  freely  admit  that  they  are  very  sinful,  very 
imperfect  In  fact,  ^ey  never  profess  to  be  any  thing  else  but  that  They 
never  profess  to  be  saints.  Some  people  think  that  the  Church  is  like  a 
picture-gallery,  and  that  Christians  are  all  like  portraits,  all  painted  and 
perfect,  and  hung  up  on  the  wall  for  show.  There  they  are  1  They  are 
ranged  around  as  quick  as  they  come  into  the  church,  and  we  have  a  right 
to  come  and  look  at  them,  and  criticise  them  as  completed  works  I  But, 
vanning  into  the  church  is  more  like  comiog  into  a  school,  where  there  is 
every  d^ree  of  scholarship,  from  the  first  to  the  highest  form ;  and  a  person 
in  coming  in,  just  begine  to  learn,  and  is  not  aiready  perfected  in  learning. 
The  church  is  more  like  a  place  where  some  kind  workman  is  teaching  in- 
experienced  apprentices.    They  are  learning,  and  not  learned. 

Do  yon  know  that  that  is  the  meaning  of  Christ's  own  word,  mathetes,  a 
seholur,  a  disciple?  He  invites  men  to  follow  him,  and  be  $ehola/n.  And 
the  Church  professes  only  to  have  those  who  are  learning.  The  one  thing 
that  constitutes  fitnesd  for  membership  in  a  church  is  this :  the  conscious- 
ness of  moral  weakness  and  want  It  is  never  implied  that  membership  in 
church  is  equivalent  to  an  exhibitory  state.  Men  are  not  gathered  into  the 
Church  thatthey  may  be  exhibited  as  specimens  of  perfect  saints.  Far 
fremiti 

When  men  find  fkult  with  Christians  that  they  are  inconsistent  and  sin- 
ftil,  and  say  that  they  are  inexcusably  so,  it  is  not  lo  be  understood  that  a 
Christian  is  a  perfect  man.  Not  at  all  I  He  does  not  profess  any  such  thing. 
But  even  if  the  worst  were  true— and  the  worst  is  not  true — ^I  mean  that, 
while  now  and  then  Christians  are  judged  accurately  by  men  of  the  world, 
eomprehensively  they  are  not ;  for  I  think  that  a  man  that  is  simply  in- 


13 


i 


■I 


4 


different  to  the  things  that  a  Christian  is  trying  to  do  and  to  be,  does  not 
know  how  difficult  they  are.  A  num  who  is  living  without  any  check  on 
his  own  selfishness,  without  any  check  on  his  own  pri^e,  is  not  in  a  state  to 
judge  how  nearly  a  man  is  successfiil  who  is  doing  violence  to  his  original 
nature  by  the  force  of  moral  principle.  If  you  think  it  is  easy  for  a  man  to 
subdue  pride ;  if  you  say,  "  you  are  a  minister,  you  ought  not  to  carry  your 
head  high"— did  you  ever  try  to  carry  yours  low  ?  If  you  never  did,  then 
you  don't  know  what  difficulty  there  may  be  in  the  operation.  Did  you,  in 
the  midst  of  your  worldly-mindedness,  ever  undertake  to  fiU  your  mind  with 
spiritual  things?  If  you  did  not,  then  you  can  not  tell  the  trials  of  temp* 
tation,  which  other  men  have  met  in  doing  it  If  you  suppose  that  it  is  an 
easy  road,  all  through,  to  be  a  Christian,  that  there  are  no  difficulties,  that 
there  is  nothing  to  prevent  a  man  from  being  symmetrical  and  even  all 
round,  and  to  be  always  what  he  ought  to  be,  it  is  because  you  have  no  con- 
ception  at  all  of  what  is  required.  Nothing  less  than  the  Spirit  of  Almighty 
God,  and  his  grace  and  power,  can  be  sufficient. 

Moreover,  to  be  able  to  judge  about  another  man,  you  must  have  a  spirit 
of  love  toward  him.  •.  Tou  are  never  jfSt  to  judge  a  man,  unless  you  love  him ! 
If  you  see  a  man  in  the  street,  although  he  is  a  detestable  villain  and  a  thie^ 
you  are  not  qualified  to  judge  him  rightly,  unless  you  have  such  a  spirit  as 
this.  He  may  be  a  miserable  debauchee,  a  roue;  he  may  be  rotten  to  the 
bone ;  but  you  are  not  fit  to  judge  him,  till  you  have  kindness  towards  him, 
till  you  have  a  yearning  disposition,  till  you  have  a  loving  heart  No  man 
is  to  judge  another  till  he  feels  that  he  can  do  it  in  a  spirit  of  kindness ;  and 
then,  in  the  spirit  of  love,  you  can  form  the  &e«<  judgment 

Naw,  in  respect  to  Christians,  the  world  does  not  love  them.  On  the 
contrary,  it  stands  and  looks  upon  them  coldly  and  piercingly.  It  judges 
them  without  any  consciousness,  or  any  experience  of  what  they  are  doing, 
of  how  they  are  denying  themselves,  of  how  they  are  wrestling,  not  agunst 
flesh  and  blood,  but  against  principalities.  I  need  not  say  how  unjust  and 
cruel  such  judgments  are. 

But  (as  I  was  going  to  say  before)  even  if  the  worst  were  true,  that  worst 
would  not  be  any  excuse  for  the  men  who  find  fiiult  with  it  It  would  not 
touch  the  ground  of  their  moral  obligation,  on  which  each  man  individually 
stands.  God's  claims  and  man's  duties  stand  on  no  such  foundation  as  the 
consistency  or  the  inconsistency  of  Christians.  If  every  man  in  New-Yoik 
cheated,  the  obligation  for  you  to  be  honest  would  be  unimpaired.  If  every 
man  in  Now-Tork  habitually  lied,  your  obligation  to  be  a  man  of  truth 
would  stand  on  just  the  same  ground.  If  every  man  in  the  army  were  a 
coward,  the  duty  and  the  beauty  of  courage  would  be  just  the  same  on  you. 
Men's  moral  and  social  duties  do  not  stand  in  the  way  in  which  other  men 
perform  them.    They  stand  on  grounds  peculiar  to  their  own  individuality. 

But  this  keen  perception  of  Christian  delinquency,  instead  of  excusing 
men,  only  makes  them  the  more  guilty.  No  person  can  look  at  the  rule  of 
Christian  life,  and  then  at  the  discrepancy  of  individual  conduct  compared 
with  that  rule,  without  convicting  himself  of  what  is  right    For  he  must 


14 


hMvi  what  ik  right,  or  he  could  not  eondemn  men  for  not  practising  it  He 
aits  in  Judgment  upon  others,  forgetting  that  he  is,  at  the  same  time,  judg- 
ing himself! 

There  are,  again,  excuses  founded  upon  the  pressure  of  business.  The 
pressure  of  business  maj  determine  how  much  a  man  may  do,  in  a  certain 
direction.  It  may  determine  the  degree  of  external  activity,  if  he  should 
become  a  Christian.  But  there  is  no  occupation,  there  is  nothing  conse- 
quent upon  the  transaction  of  business,  than  can  reach  the  question  that 
lies  within  the  man,  and  excuse  him  for  the  want  of  higher  moral  qualities. 
Circumstances  of  business  may  determin?  how  much  we  may  do  for  our 
parents,  or  our  children ;  it  will  never  justify  us  in  withholding  our  love 
from  them.  No  man  feels  that  any  amount  of  business  is  an  excuse  for  the 
want  of  moral  qualities.  No  man  ever  said :  "I  know  I  have  been  a  slip- 
pery man ;  I  know  I  have  been  flying  kites  more  than  I  ought ;  I  know  I 
have  resorted  to  many  devices  not  right  in  business ;  I  know  I  have  done  a 
hundred  things ;  but  then,  I  haven't  time  to  reform ;  I  haven't  time  to  tell 
the  truth ;  I  haven't  time  to  be  honorable ;  I  haven't  time  to  make  good  paper 
instead  of  bad."  Why,  every  body  would  laugh  to  scorn  any  such  state- 
ment as  that  As  if  it  took  a  man  any  more  time  to  do  right  than  to  do 
wrong!  Asifittookamananymoretime  to  tell  the  truth  than  a  lie!  As 
if  it  took  any  more  time  for  a  man  to  swear  than  not  to  swear  I  It  takes  no 
more  time  to  be  virtuous  than  not  to  be — ^nor  half  so  much.  It  takes  no 
more  time  to  be  just  than  to  be  unjust 

Now,  if  it  were  true  that  religion  required  a  man  to  relinquish  business, 
and  to  go  into  a  cave  or  convent,  then  there  might  be  plausibility  in  this 
excuse.  But  the  command  is  this :  "  Whether  ye  eat  or  drink,  or  whatsoever 
ye  do,  do  all  to  the  glory  of  Ood."  And  it  takes  a  man  no  longer  time  to 
act  from  a  benevolent,  than  from  a  selfish  motive;  from  allegiance  than 
from  non-allegiance.  The  whole  excuse  that  a  man  "  has  no  time,"  is  ut- 
terly without  foundation. 

Nay,  religion  is,  in  one  sense,  an  economy  of  time.  A  mind  centered  in 
love— «  mind  trusting  in  God,  and  hopeful  of  heaven — ^a  heart  that  truly 
loves  men,  is  better  fitted  for  the  transaction  of  business  than  any  other. 
It  can  do  more  in  the  same  time ;  can  do  it  better,  with  less  weariness.  I 
do  not  mean  to  say  that,  when  a  man  becomes  a  Christian,  he  will  make  a 
great  deal  better  merchant  than  a  man  who  is  not  a  Christian ;  for  the  ori- 
ginal gifts  for  commercial  life  may  be  very  different  in  the  two  men.  But  I 
say,  take  the  same  man,  before  and  after  he  has  become  a  Christian,  and 
his  adaptation  for  business  afterwards  will  be  better  than  it  was  before. 
Take  a  man  who  is  hard,  grasping,  clenching,  greedy,  wanting  more  and 
more,  without  bound  or  measure,  and  he  is  wasteM  of  the  economies  of  his 
life.  He  can  not  do  so  much  as  a  business  man,  as  if  his  soul  were  trans- 
fused with  the  lore  of  God,  and  his  desires  were  tempered  with  the  love  of 
his  fellow-men.  A  man  whose  mind  is  serene,  who  says,  "  God  rules ;  my 
trust  is  in  him ;  I  look  up  to  heaven ;  if  I  lose  my  property  here,  it  is  no- 
thing, comparatively — if  I  lose  my  place  and  position,  it  is  nothing,  com- 


u 


paratiyely.  So  that  my  crown  is  not  taken  awa j,  I  lose  but  little— "such 
a  man  is  better  fitted  for  business  than  any  other,  who  can.  not  say  this. 
And  no  man  has  so  little  ground  of  excuse  for  not  becoming  a  Christian,  as 
the  man  who  pleads  that  he  is  burdened  and  plied  with  business  engage- 
ments.   He,  more  than  any  body  else,  needs  religion. 

A  word  about  excuses  founded  upon  hope,  such  as  promises  and  procras- 
tinations, for  there  are  many  of  them.  They  seem  very  amiable  sins,  for 
they  consist,  not  in  men's  refusing  to  perform  duty,  but  simply  in  ad- 
journing its  performance.  Many  persons  excuse  themselves  for  hot  being 
Christians  now,  by  the  promise  that  they  will  be  by  and  by.  At  the 
bottom,  however,  their  {M-omises  are  all  deceptive.  They  are  artifices  simply 
to  rid  one's  self  of  importunity.  They  are  like  many  debtors'  promises, 
who  promise  to  pay  what  they  owe,  the  next  month — ^not  because  they  ex- 
pect to  pay  it  then,  but  because  they  wish  to  get  rid  of  your  importunity 
till  that  time.  It  is  a  device,  not  by  which  you  are  to  get  your  money,  but 
by  which  they  are  not  to  pay  it.  So  men  say,  they  can  not  attend  to  reli- 
gion now,  but  they  will  at  such  and  such  a  time.  These  excuses  are  at 
bottom  untrue  and  deceptive,  and  are  meant  to  be  so.  Oh  I  how  many  of 
them  there  are  I  The  mere  statement  does  not  begin  to  cover  the  fiicts.  I 
call  upon  those  that  are  present  to-night  to  remember  how  many  of  those 
prayers,  which  they  have  made,  have  been  forgotten  after  they  were 
made.  If  you  had  made  as  many  notes — ^written  them,  signed  them,  and, 
in  the  presence  of  witnesses,  given  them  out — as  you  have  made  solemn 
promises  to  God,  covering  the  whole  sphere  of  your  being,  and  if  all  these 
notes  were  to  be  brought  to  your  notice  now — ^you  would  be  bankrupt. 
Think  of  aU  that  you  made  when  you  were  sick !  Beginning  at  childhood, 
and  coming  down  through  five,  ten,  fifteen,  twenty,  forty,  fifty  years — ^most 
solemn  promises  that  if  God  would,  in  your  trouble,  remove  that  trouble; 
that  if,  in  the  sickness  of  your  child,  God  would  spare  that  child,  and  let  it 
be  restored  to  life ;  all  the  promises  that  you  made  to  God,  that  if  he  would 
fulfill  certain  conditions,  or  forget  certain  threatenings,  you  would  fulfill  cer- 
tain duties ;  all  that  you  made  for  the  futurei,  which  you  made  only  to  forget ; 
all  that  you  made  upon  the  sea,  and  in  the  storm ;  all  that  you  qiade  in 
distant  lands,  and  in  great  exigencies  and  emergencies ;  all  that  you  made 
under  vehement  pressure  of  business !  Oh !  what  promises  have  you  made 
to  Godl  How  many  times  have  you  adjourned  present  performance  with 
the  avowed  solemn  promise  that  you  would  perform  your  duty  at  some 
other  day  t  A  young  man,  some  five  years  before  he  comee  to  his  estate, 
is  waiting  anxiously  for  it  He  can  not  take  possession,  and  he  wants  to 
use  it  before  he  can  get  it.  Whenever  he  wants  money  he  goes  to  a  usurer, 
and  gets  it  by  giving  a  note  of  hand  for  the  amount  He  borrows  it  to  pay 
it  out  of  the  estate  when  it  shall  fiiU  to  him.  He  is  drawing  it  all  firom  this 
usurer,  who  knows  that  the  estate  is  ample.  He  don*t  want  to  disturb  the 
young  man's  fear.  So  one  note  after  another  is  put  down,  and  one  after 
another  again — ^the  young  man  forgetting  every  one,  the  usuper  remember' 
ing  every  one— till  there  are  enough  to  make  a  package,  and  it  is  inclosed 


16 


*ii  an  enreli^pe,  and  laid  aw*y  in  the  mfe.    Then  another  note  comes  in,  and 
then  another,  and  anothei^---the  usurer  keeping  account,  the  young  man 
keeping  no  account— tiU  another  package  ia  made,  and  put  awaj  alongside 
of  tiie  first    So  the  expecting  heir  gires  his  notes^during  one  year,  two 
years,  three  years,  four  years,  five  yMurs ;  and  then  he  comes  into  posses- 
sion.   Fiye  years  he  has  spent  in  ijnjoying  himself,  and  now  he  is  going  to 
enjoy  himself  all  the  more.    One  day,  after  he  is  in  Aill  possession,  he  "  re- 
ceives a  visit "  from  his  friend  I    His  friend  has  come  to  "  settle  those  little 
matters  I"    "Oh  1  yes,  I  recollect  There  were  some  slight  transactions  be- 
tween you  and  me."    "  Tes,  some  slight  transactions  "-"and  the  man  pulls 
out  the  bundles,  one  after  another,  and  opens  them.    "  That  is  for  the  year 
1640 ;  that  for  the  year  1841."    The  young  man  begins  to  look  strangely. 
"  I  don't  recollect  so  much  as  that,  sir."   "  Well,  never  mind;  /recollect it/ 
But  tiiat  is  not  all  I"  The  usurer  be^ns  to  pull  out  more  notes.  "  That  pack- 
age is  for  1842 ;  tiiat,  for  *48 ;  that  for  '44:"  and  he  begins  to  open  them 
one  by  one.    "  Is  that  your  signature  f "   He  looks  at  it  and  says :  "  Ye&" 
He  shows  him  another.  "  Is  that  your  signature  V*  He  examines  it  and  says : 
"Yes."  He  opens  another  package.    The  young  man  asks:  "What's  that?" 
"Oh I  that's  tiie  same  thing.    Is  that  your  signature  f"    " Tes,"  he  says, 
and  he  begins  to  grow  pale.    Ten  thousand  dollars — ^twenty  thousand  I    He 
counts  it  up,  and  says :  "  Oh  I  I  never  had  so  much !"    "  Stop,"  says  the 
money-lender,  "that's  not  all — that's  not  half."    Thirty  thousand — ^forty 
thousand  I    "Why,  sir,  the  estate  is  worth  only  fifty  thousand!"    And 
here  i$  forty  thoueand  eomumed.    "Ah  I  yes— fifty  thousand ;  that's  just 
it ;  here  it  is— count  it  t"    Fifty  thousand  t    The  whole  estate  t    There  he 
has  gone  on,  giving  his  notes — month  after  month,  year  afl«r  year — till 
they  just  cover  the  property !    And  the  usurer's  interest  was  that  the  man 
should  not  understand  any  thing  about  it  till  the  time  came  for  possession 
of  the  estate,  when  he  could  make  a  clean  sweep,  and  take  it  all  himself 
from  the  spendthrift  and  bankrupt  heir!     The  old  home,  where  the  man 
expected  to  spend  his  life,  is  gone ;  the  money  is  all  gone ;  the  property  is 
all  gone — and  he  is  turned  out  in  poverty  upon  the  world  I 

Now,  Qod  is  not  a  usurer,  but  this  may  illustrate  the  other  side  of  the 
story — ^when  a  man  will  give  promise  after  promise,  and  pledge  after  pledge 
— he  forgetting  them  all,  but  God  never ;  till  by  and  by,  he  shall  come  to 
stand  up  in  judgment,  when  these  promises — ^made  from  sick-beds,  made  in 
times  of  difficulty  and  danger,  made  in  moments  when  the  heart  was 
stricken  with  trouble — ^will  all  rise  up  before  him,  and  confront  him  to  his 
everiasting  confiision  and  shame  t  He  will  then  find  that  his  promises 
were  no  justifying  reasons  for  neglecting  his  duty  ( 

There  are,  also,  excuses  founded  on  peculiarities  of  situation,  difficulties 
of  temper  and  disposition ;  but  I  can  not,  to-night,  begin  to  discuss  the 
chapter  of  excuses  any  fiirther.  For,  as  for  excuses,  they  are  more  numer- 
ous than  there  are  new  leaves  coming  out,  to-night,  on  all  the  trees  of  the 
city ;  and  some  men  are  as  fiill  of  them  as  any  tree  is  of  leaves. 
None  of  these  excuse  amount  to  any  thing  which  is  not  solvable  by  the 


will  of  man — ^which  men  can  not  orercome  at  once — ^which  thej  do  not 
overcome  ten  thousand  times  in  business,  in  pleasure,  in  ambition.  When- 
ever a  man  wants  any  thing,  the  difficulties  in  getting  it  may  be  tenfold 
more  than  in  trying  to,  become  a  Christian.  Usually,  when  men  want  any 
thing,  they  are  determined  to  get  it ;  but  a  man  says :  "  It  is  so  hard  to  be- 
come a  Christian  I"  It  is  hard,  because  you  don't  want  to  be  a  Christian. 
A  man  doet  want  to  be  rich,  and,  though  the  money  is  under  the  equator, 
he  breaks  away  from  his  father's  house,  from  home,  from  pleasure,  from  the 
conveniences  of  life,  and  goes  in  seach  for  it,  and,  braving  danger  and  dis- 
ease, toils  by  day  and  by  night — an  exile,  severed  from  home — that  he  may 
have  the  privilege  of  going  back  again  with  a  littU  money.  There  is  no- 
thing hard !  Men  will  go  to  the  North  Pole,  if  money  draws  them,  or  the 
love  of  science,  or  of  enterprise  and  daring  I  There  is  nothing  hard  toHhe 
enthusiasm  of  ambition !  Whatever  is  to  be  gained  by  enterprise,  by  perse- 
verance, by  toil,  by  patient  endeavor,  none  of  these  things  are  esteemed  hard. 
If  the  thing  is  a  worldly  thing — ^if  it  touches  their  passions,  their  pride, 
their  self-interest,  it  is  never  hard;  but,  oh!  if  it  be  virtue,  if  it  be  purity, 
if  it  be  hope  of  immortality,  if  it  be  Christ  and  heaven,  then  the  difficulties 
are  so  great  I  It  is  because  men  do  not  care  for  these  things,  that  they  find 
them  hard ;  and  every  man  then  has  an  excuse.  It  is  because  he  will  not, 
not  because  he  can  not. 

There  can  not  be,  in  the  nature  of  things,  any  excuse  that  should  justify 
a  man  in  the  neglect  of  Christian  duty.  No  excuse  can  be  framed  why  a 
man  should  neglect  his  own  character,  why  he  should  live  forgetful  of  his 
immortality,  of  his  honor,  of  his  power  and  capacity  of  enjoyment  forever 
and  ever.  No  possible  excuse  can  justify  itl  There  is  no  excuse  why  a 
man  should  build  up  his  whole  character  upon  the  basis  of  his  lower  nature, 
instead  of  his  higher.  There  can  be  no  excuse  why  a  man  should  persist- 
ently, all  his  life  long,  live  without  Qod.  There  can  be  no  excuse  why  a  man 
should  ever  treat  himself  so  cruelly  as  wicked  men  treat  themselves — starving 
their  conscience,  starving  their  moral  nature,  starving  out  their  very  life !  Oh  I 
the  heart  of  every  man — ^I  do  not  care  how  wicked  he  is— sometimes  hungers 
and  thirsts  1  There  is  something  in  the  soul  of  every  man  that,  first  or  last, 
cries  out  for  God !  In  the  ear  of  man's  highest  prosperity,  something  will  al- 
ways come  to  whisper,  saying :  "  All  these  successes  do  not  satisfy  you  I" 
I  think  that  in  the  history  of  bad  men — I  think  ?  I  know — there  are  intervals 
when  there  comes  to  them  a  sense  of  the  unutterable  meanness  of  business,  of 
the  utter  deceit  in  it,  of  the  unsatisfying  nature  of  it!  The  drunkard  be- 
tween his  cups  calls  out  for  temperance,  and  for  help  against  his  temptations. 
The  lecherous  man,  in  the  intervals  of  his  furious  voluptuous  passions, 
knows  that  his  manhood  is  not  there,  and  that  he  is  being  bestialized.  The 
dishonest  man,  in  the  intervals  of  his  bargains,  knows  that  he  is  under  the 
dominion  of  avarice,  and  that  he  is  simply  a  commercial  and  useless  man, 
living  for  no  high^  end  than  money.  Men  who  live  merely  for  social  en- 
joyment, and  who  leave  GKxl  out  of  their  life,  know  the  miserable  hollowness 
of  the  world.    Men's  souls  moan  and  sob  within  them,  as  often,  in  the 


household,  children  017  out  from  the  ontdle,  when  parents  are  gone  out,  and 
wet  their  pillows  with  tears  unheeded.  There  is  something  in  the  soul  that 
cries  out  for  God ;  and  no  man  can  frame  a  justifying  reason  why  he  should 
denj  his  better  nature,  giving  himself  up  to  live  as  if  he  were  a  beast.  If 
you  were  a  mere  animal,  if  you  were  only  an  ox,  browsing  and  homed,  then 
your  life  would  not  be  so  very  bad.  If  you  were  a  bird,  feathered  and  fly- 
ing, it  would  not  be  so  inexcusable.  You  would  do  very  well  for  an  ox ; 
very  well  for  a  bird.  You  would  do  very  well  if  you  were  a  dog,  or  if  you 
were  a  horse ;  and  many  men  would  ascend  a  great  way  to  become  so.  You 
would  make  very  good  animals ;  but  God  has  made  you  in  the  likeness  of 
his  own  self.  God  made  you  to  form  such  a  character  as  should  make 
Heaven  possible  to  you.  God  made  you  for  the  upper  part  of  your  nature, 
and  not  for  the  lower  part  of  it. 

And  now,  to  live  for  the  pampering  of  the  lusts  of  the  flesh  and  the  pride 
of  life ;  to  live  for  the  enjoyment  of  that  which  perishes  in  the  using ;  to 
live  so  that  truth  and  love  and  all  things  that  endure  shall  be  marred,  and 
flawed,  and  neglected,  and  starved — there  is  no  excuse  for  that  I  There  is 
no  excuse  for  that  I  And  when  you  come  at  last,  in  the  Judgment  Day,  to 
look  upon  the  face  of  God,  you  will  not  then  think  of  urging  these  excuses ! 
It  is  declared — and  I  can  imagine  the  reason  why — that  when  we  stand  at 
last  convicted  before  God,  we  shall  stand  speeehlesa  !  There  will  be  no- 
thing to  be  said !  You  may  be  garrulous  and  excusatory  before  minister 
or  priest ;  but  when  you  come  to  render  your  account  before  that  Great 
Tribunal,  where  your  excuses  are  to  stand  or  fall  for  evermore,  you  will  be 
perfectly  dumb—^peeehlest !  For  when  the  wicked  rise  to  shame  and  ever- 
lasting contempt,  they  will  be  so  overwhelmed,  that  no  man  will  choose  to 
speak,  but  will  be  bowed  down,  and  sink  forever  and  ever  1  May  God  re- 
deem you  from  all  these  vain  excuses,  and  bring  you  in  sincerity  and  with 
the  heartiest  earnestness  to  seek  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ — ta  love  Christ ;  to 
live  by-  faith  in  Christ ;  to  die  in  the  consolation  of  Christ ;  to  rise  in  the 
image  of  Christ ;  and  to  dwell  with  Him  forever  and  forever !    Amen ! 


'ifW^jHci 


^- 


DISCOURAGEMENTS 


IN  THE 


CHRISTIAN    LIFE.* 


•  •»■ 


"  For  consider  him  that  endured  'such  contradiction  of  sinners  against  himself, 
lest  ye  he  wearied  and  &int  in  your  minds." — Heb.  12 :  3. 

I  BELiBVB  there  is  not  one  of  the  Epistles  of  the  New  Testament— whether 
special,  to  particular  churches,  or  catholic,  to  all  Christians — ^that  does  not, 
over  and  over  again,  multiply  exhortations  and  comforting  assurances  to 
those  who  have  begun  a  Christian  life,  on  the  supposition  that  they  are 
liable  to  discouragement  and  faint-heartedness  and  that  they  need,  again 
and  again,  to  be  inspired  "with  hope  and  courage.  There  is  nothing  in 
human  life  that  is  not  liable  to  turns  of  depression.  It  would  be  very 
strange,  indeed,  if  Christian  men,  endeavoring  to  live  a  high  moral  and 
spiritual  life,  were  not  subject  to  the  discouragements  which  belong  to  all 
human  endeavors. 

If  there  were  no  other  than  common  natural  weakness  attaching  to  us  in 
our  religious  life,  it  would  be  fit,  occasionally,  that  we  should  be  exhorted,  com- 
forted, and  inspired.  But  there  are  causes  which  lie  deeper  than  the  mwe 
capacity  of  being  wearied,  and  deeper  than  this  exhaustion,  which  overtakes 
us  with  discouragement — ^that  work  in  the  heart  of  man,  to  put  unnecessary 
difficulties  in  his  way.  There  are  difficulties  which,  if  explained,  would 
cease  to  be  any  longer  difficult. 

It  is  for  the  purpose  of  setting  before  you,  in  some  few  particulars,  some 
of  the  causes  of  weakness,  and  so  oftentimes  of  discouragem<»nt,  that  I  shall 
speak  to-night 

Some  there  are  who  b^^  well,  in  the  Christian  life,  but  of  wtiom  we 
never  hear  afterwards.  They  disappear  like  dew  in  the  morning,  which 
the  sun  drinks  dry ;  only  they  are  not  drunk  up  by  the  Sun  of  Righteous- 
ness. Some  hold  on  in  respect  to  many  things,  but  give  over,  early  in  their 
Christian  career,  the  idea  of  a  complete  victory.  They  retreat  to  what  may 
be  called  a  sort  of  section-life,  in  which  they  take  some  section  of  Christian 
development,  for  the  purpose  of  persevering  only  in  that,  while  they  reject 
the  whole  as  too  comprehens'  /c  ."or  them.  Some  give  up  the  devotional 
element  They  think  they  are  not  specially  called  to  the  interior  life  of  a 
Christian,  but  to  outward  moralities,  or  to  what  they  call  a  more  practical 

w,  „,„.  ,,►*„       ,  J.  -.jgjjjfl  jn  Hjmouth  Oborcb,  Brooklyn,  June  2T,  186S. 


f 


20 

Christianity.  If,  for  instance,  they  are  so  placed  that  in  their  business 
there  are  no  special  problems  or  difficulties  which  trouble  them,  they  take 
the  easiest  side,  and  say :  "  We  will  become  good,  practical  Christians,  living 
as  well  as  we  know  how,  and  leave  others  to  indulge  in  the  mere  fancies  of 
devotion."  Others  resort  to  the  devotional  element,  because  they  happen 
to  be  so  placed  in  life  that  they  suflfer  conflict  between  their  religious  prin- 
ciples and  their  daily  business ;  a  conflict  which  requires  of  them  constant 
self-denying  processes.  Their  business  has  great  difficulties  for  them,  and 
so  they  abandon  what  they  call  practical  morality,  and  take  the  higher 
ground  of  spiritual  devotion.  In  other  words,  they  make  up  in  hymns 
what  they  lack  in  honesty ;  in  prayers,  what  they  lack  in  truthfulness ;  and 
in  inward  luxury  of  religion,  what  thty  lack  in  outward  fidelity  and  daily 
service  of  God  I 

There  is  a  kind  of  adjustment  to  which  men  must  come — a  correction  of 
crude  notions  by  stern  experience.  Perhaps  one  man  out  of  twenty  begins 
a  Christian  life,  and  holds  out  to  the  end  as  he  began,  only  better  and 
better ;  but  I  think  that  the  nineteen  in  the  twenty,  beginning  as  they  may, 
will  go  through  a  period  in  which  there  will  certainly  be  discouragement, 
shrinking,  hesitation,  reasoning  with  themselves,  and  re&djustment.  They 
come,  by  and  by,  into  their  Christian  life  in  good  earnest,  but  not  until  they 
have  gone  through  this  preliminary  fermentation'. 

There  are  so  many  who  have  been  newly  gathered  into  this  church,  and 
who  have  lately  begun  a  Christian  life,  who  are,  in  these  respects,  like- 
passioned  with  others,  that  it  seems  eminently  fit  that  they  should  receive, 
in  the  beginning,  a  word  of  caution  in  regard  to  a  great  many  of  these 
points,  in  order  that  these  readjusting  processes,  which,  undoubtedly,  they 
too  must  experience,  may  be  consummated  happily. 

I  shall  point  out  some  of  the  causes  which  will  be  liable  to  work  dis- 
couragement among  you. 

1.  Many  persons  are  discouraged  at  the  great  difference  which  they  ex- 
perience in  their  feelings,  when  they  receive  instruction  from  the  ministra- 
tions of  other  people's  minds,  and  when  they  are  obliged  to  furnish  tJiem- 
9elvet  with  the  truth  which  is  required  for  their  daily  Christian  life. 

In  a  time  of  unusual  religious  interest — ^when  all  men  think  and  speak  of 
religion — ^when  unwonted  power  is  put  forth  in  the  disclosure  of  religious 
truth — when  men  are  brought  into  meetings  morning  and  evening,  and  on 
multiplied  occasions  through  the  week — ^there  is  continually  prepared  for 
them  and  brought  to  bear  on  them  a  great  and  unusual  amount  of  religious 
truth,  whidb,  spoken  by  men  who  are  themselves  awakened,  and  who  are 
more  fervent,  more  imaginative,  and  more  emotive  than  they  ordinarily  are, 
is  pressed  home  witii  power  and  effect,  which  they  can  hardly  measure,  and 
of  which  you  are  hardly  aware.  Many  persons  began  their  religious  life 
amid  such  circumstances,  who,  as  the  general  interest  gradually  ceases,  and 
they  are  left  to  navigate  alone,  do  not  know  the  transition  between  receiv- 
ing truth  ahready  prepared  for  them,  and  searching  for  truth  and  preparing 
it  for  themselves.    They  then  fidl  into  great  straits.    They  do  not  know 


..,. 


.. 


21 


what  the  matter  is.  They  can  only  say  that  they  do  not  feel  as  they  did 
before.  They  sometimes  think  that  the  Spirit  has  departed  from  them. 
At  other  times,  they  suppose  they  have  lost  their  first  love,  and  try  to  com- 
fort themselves  by  thinking  that  every  body  must  expect  to  experience  less 
joy  by  and  by,  than  at  the  beginning. 

What  would  they  think  of  a  person  who  should  rise  in  the  morning,  and 
be  so  intently  occupied  with  the  affairs  of  the  house,  that  he  should  forget 
entirely  to  take  any  break&st,  and  should  go  on  singing  without  it,  till  ten 
or  eleven  o'clock  ?  By  this  time,  he  would  think  he  was  going  to  be  un- 
well 1  He  does  not  know  what  the  matter  is ;  only  he  says :  "  I  feel  worse 
than  when  I  arose."  By  and  by,  ho  comes  to  twelve  and  one  o'clock,  feel- 
ing still  worse.  He  has  forgotten  his  dinner  too  I  He  begins  to  feel  still 
more  mysterious  sensations,  and  becomes  very  weak  and  &int.  At  last,  he 
bethinks  himself  to  send  for  a  physician — ^whom  he  asks :  "  What  can  be 
the  matter  with  me  ?" 

The  physician  inquires  of  him :  "  What  did  you  eat  for  breakfast  ?" 

The  man  hesitates  a  moment,  and  replies :  "  Oh !  I  forgot  my  breakfast." 

"  Well,  what  did  you  eat  for  dinner  ?" 

"  Ah  I  yes ;  I  didn't  eat  any  thing  for  dinner." 

*'  Why,  your  trouble  is  want  of  food.  You  are  faint  because  you  have 
eaten  nothing.    Go  and  get  your  dinner,  and  you  will  feel  better." 

He  goes  immediately  to  the  table,  and  eats  a  hearty  meal ;  and  on  eating, 
he  says :  *'  Why,  yes,  that  was  just  what  was  the  matter  with  me !" 

Many  persons  after  partaking  bountifully  of  the  spiritual  repast  which  is 
provided  for  them  in  church,  on  going  away  for  a  time,  and  being  thrown 
into  circumstances  where,  if  they  are  to  have  food,  they  must  themselves 
prepare  it — ^where,  if  they  are  to  have  Scripture,  they  must  themselves  read 
it — ^where,  if  they  are  to  have  devout  feelings,  they  must  themselves  pray ; 
but  who,  when  food  is  no  longer  offered  to  them,  and  forgetting  to  go  and 
get  it  themselves,  go  without  Scripture,  without  instruction,  without  prayer  < 
— ^lose  their  feelings,  and  wonder  what  is  coming  over  them.  Whereas,  all 
the  time,  it  is  nothing  but  faintness  from  lack  of  food !  If  you  would  minis- 
ter to  yourself  those  things  that  were  before  ministered  unto  you,  you  would 
feel  just  the  same  now  as  at  the  beginning.  That  vision  of  Christ  which 
made  your  heart  respond  and  echo  with  joy,  would  awaken  your  joy  again. 
But  instead  of  waiting  for  others  to  hold  up  these  thoughts  and  visions  to 
you,  you  must  call  them  up  yourself.  In  other  words,  you  must  now  earn 
your  daily  bread  in  spiritual  things,  just  as  children  who  come  to  years  of 
majority,  are  obliged  to  earn  their  daily  bread  in  secular  things. 

Wherever  God,  in  his  providence,  may  carry  you,  remember  that  some 
one  must  give  you  bread,  or  else  you  must  get  it  yourself.  You  can  not 
expect  that  your  Christian  feelings  Mrill  continue  in  your  heart,  just  because 
you  have  become  a  Christian.  Many  persons  think  that  when  the  heart  is 
changed,  the  causes  of  joy  are  implanted  in  it  in  such  a  manner,  as  that 
they  shall  go  on  with  joy  all  the  rest  of  the  way  through  life.  Christians, 
on  the  contrary,  are  day-clocks ;  you  must  wind  them  up  every  day,  or 


they  will  neither  tick,  nor  strike,  nor  tell  the  time.  It  is  a  mistake  to  sup- 
pose that  Christians  are  like  springs,  that  gush  out  of  crystal  fountains, 
which  are  so  high  and  full  and  pure  that  neither  summer  nor  winter  can 
bring  drought  to  their  streams.  The  mountain  top  must  forever  condense 
the  clouds,  or  mountain  streams  will  cease  to  flow — and  the  Christian  heart 
will  cease  to  flow  unless  the  life  is  carried  so  high  up  toward  heaven,  as 
forever  to  bring  down  supplies. 

The  eagerness  with  which  persons  begin  the  Christian  life  can  not,  of 
course,  forever  remain,  although  the  earnestness  may.  I  do  not  mean,  that 
the  prevalent  popular  notion,  that  Christians  are  happier  at  the  beginning, 
than  they  ever  will  be  afterward,  is  true.  I  think,  on  the  other  hand,  that 
every  true  Christian  is  less  happy  at  the  beginning,  than  he  will  be  later  in 
his  course.  But  there  are  some  kinds  of  ei\joyment  which  belong  to  novelty 
and  to  flrst  experiences.  These  must,  naturally,  die  out ;  for,  as  grape- 
blossoms,  fragrant  as  they  are,  must  drop  away,  in  order  to  give  place  to 
grapes,  which  are  better,  so  there  are  some  forms  of  early  religious  experi- 
ence which  must  give  way,  in  order  to  produce,  in  their  places,  certain 
others,  which  are  better  than  they.    Change  is  not  destruction. 

2.  Many  are  liable  to  become  wearied  and  faint,  from  positive  reaction ; 
from  a  depression  arising  from  exhaustion.  These  include  two  classes  of 
persons :  those  who  are  conscientious  and  nervous,  and  those  who  are  not 
in  good  health.  The  element  of  health  enters  very  largely  into  the  question 
of  emotive  religious  experience.  It  is  not  diflBcult  for  a  person  of  a  slender 
constitution,  with  but  little  nervous  stamina,  to  be  so  exercised  in  a  short 
time,  that,  according  to  the  necessities  of  nature,  he  will  suffer  a  prodigious 
re&ction.  Excitement  in  religion  can  be  carried  to  excess,  just  as  easily  as 
in  any  thing  else. 

Itlany  persons,  in  the  early  stage  of  their  religious  feelings,  are  without 
any  moderation.  They  think,  so  that  it  be  religion,  that  they  can  not  have 
too  much  of  it  t  But  religious  feeling  excites  men,  just  as  really  as  any 
other  feeling,  and  many  persons  have  a  good  deal  too  much  of  it  for  their 
own  good.  There  are  persons  who  attend  this  church  twice  a  day,  who 
ought  never  to  come  but  once,  for  the  excitement  of  twice  coming  is  more 
than  they  can  bear.  No  man  that  lies  awake  all  Sabbath  night,  and  who 
requires  half  a  week  to  get  over  the  mere  nervous  excitement  of  an  over- 
taxed brain,  is  serving  Ood  intelligently !  They  have  no  right  to  pervert 
the  laws  of  nature  in  this  way.  There  is  to  be  a  rational  view  in  these 
things,  as  in  all  others. 

It  often  happens,  that  in  a  contagious  excitement,  men  who  can  not  bear 
long-continued  pressure,  are  so  pressed,  that  at  last,  when  they  are  brought 
out  into  such  a  state  of  religious  enjoyment  and  luxury,  they  think  of  no- 
thing so  little  as  of  economy,  care,  and  watchfulness,  in  respect  to  their 
physical,  psychological,  and  mental  symptoms.  By  and  by,  when  the  ex- 
ternal pressure  is  removed,  they  begin  to  decline,  and  go  further  and  further 
down,  not  knowing  where  they  will  land.  It  seems  to  them  as  it  seems  in 
the  night,  when  they  sleep  and  dream  that  they  are  falling.    Oh  I  that  awful 


%m  ^ 


'«. 


f 


ir> 


sense  of  falling  in  one^s  sleep!  It  is  reproduced  in  the  experience  of  per^ 
sons  who  enter  their  Christiui  life,  ss  they  enter  upon  a  strange  Joj  in  a 
dream,  and  who,  when  the  stimulating  causes  of  their  excited  feelings  are 
removed,  giro  way,  and  seem  to  themselres  to  be  helplessly  iklling  into  the 
abyss  of  despair. 

If  persons  in  such  circumstances  are  unwisely  treated,  it  may  be  their 
utter  destruction.  I  have  known  persons  to  be  driven  crazy  from  such  a 
cause.  I  have  known  others,  who  fell  into  a  state  of  fixed  and  settled  me- 
lancholy, which  was  not  eradicated  in  all  the  rest  of  their  lives.  Very  great 
care  should  be  taken,  in  the  first  place,  to  prevent  such  intense  excitement; 
but  where  there  has  already  been  over-taxation,  corresponding  information 
and  instruction  should  be  given.  Direction  should  be  given,  not  that  they 
should  have  a  cumulation  of  conscience ;  not  that  they  should  sing  more, 
and  pray  more,  and  go  to  meeting  more,  and  in  this  way  win  back  their 
lost  joy;  but  that  they  should  have  what  they  most  need — rest.  1  would 
say  to  them,  if  from  stimulating  religious  exercises  you  have  already  over- 
tasked your  energies,  you  have  gone  beyond  what  nature  can  bear ;  these 
are  the  signals  and  tokens  that  you  have  transcended  the  limits  of  propriety. 
You  now  need  rest,  quietness,  fresh  air,  wholesome  food,  recreation,  and  the 
removal  of  such  acute  and  intense  excitements,  moral  though  they  be ;  and 
to  persons  in  such  circumstances,  such  excitements  are  more  moral  than 
religious. 

If  persons,  without  sufficient  strength  or  stamina  to  bear  great  excite- 
ments, find  themselves  swinging  from  their  high  joys,  and  visions,  and  ec- 
stasy, into  lower  and  less  happy  moods ;  if,  fiirther,  they  settle  down  through 
these,  into  states  of  feeling  still  lower,  in  which  it  seems  as  if  darkness  and 
night  were  gathering  round  them ;  if  their  old  experiences  are  gone,  and 
their  yearnings  for  them  do  not  bring  them  back ;  if,  though  they  are  will' 
ing  to  take  up  any  cross,  and  to  bear  any  burden,  could  only  the  old  joy  be 
restored,  and  the  old  emotions  fill  their  hearts  once  more,  these  do  not, 
nevertheless,  return,  and  their  hearts  that  cry  out  to  be  filled,  are  yet  empty 
— if  this  is  the  condition  in  which  men  find  themselves,  against  their  will 
and  wish,  and  in  spite  of  their  forced  religious  exercises  and  devotions,  it  is 
very  plain  that  they  are  suffering  fi:>om  too  great  excitement,  and  that  the 
remedy  which  they  need  is  repose.  They  have  overtaxed  themselves,  and 
they  should  be  instructed  to  undo  this  mischief;  and  when  it  is  undone 
there  will  usually  be  no  further  trouble — ^till  the  next  time,  when  they  over, 
tax  themselves  again,  and  bring  the  old  difficulty  back  once  more. 

8.  Persons  of  a  timid  nature,  whose  religious  life  has  either  by  education, 
or  from  something  in  themselves,  tinned  upon  conscience,  or  in  whom  their 
religious  life  is  of  the  type  of  conscience  rather  than  of  love,  or  trust,  or 
hope — are  peculiarly  liable  to  discouragement  and  weariness.  For  con- 
science, when  it  is  the  controlling  element,  is  exacting  and  exhaustive,  even 
though  it  be  applied  merely  to  external  moralities.  But,  stOl  more,  when 
it  is  applied  to  the  inner  realm  of  the  mind — to  thought,  to  feeling,  to  mo- 
tive, to  the  ideal  of  inward  Christian  life — conscience  becomes  excessively 


i 


S4 


deipotio,  and  beats  down  hope.  No  nun  if  so  often  wearied  and  discou- 
raged, as  one  whose  life  is  set  to  the  key-note  of  conscience — and  not  to 
lore,  or  trust,  or  hope. 

4.  Great'  (^soouragement  befklls  men  who  hare  a  religion  without  any 
social  element  to  corroborate  it  So  far  am  I  Arom  thinking  that  meditation 
and  solitary  exercises  are  indispensable  to  religion,  that  it  is  almost  a  mi- 
racle that  men  in  such  circumstances  are  good.  I  can  conceive,  now  and 
then  a  nature  with  force  and  resource  enough  to  be  good  in  a  cloister  or  a 
cave ;  but  usually  speaking,  I  think  a  man's  piety  is  mouldy,  poor,  and 
mean,  who  is  shut  up  flrom  the  social  element  of  religion.  When,  there- 
fore, men  are  converted,  and  are  brought  into  the  Church,  it  is  to  the  last 
degree  important,  that  they  should  be  surrounded  with  friends,  and  should 
experience  the  genial  stimulus  of  social  life.  When  they  have  no  friends 
around  them,  or  when  they  arc  obliged  to  abandon  their  old  associates,  and 
find  no  new  ones  in  their  places ;  when,  in  some  measure,  they  are  attempt- 
ing to  live  a  kind  of  secret  and  undisclosed  religion — it  is  almost  morally 
certain,  that  such  persons  will  be  liable  to  great  despondency  and  discou- 
ragement  Therefore,  I  think  that,  among  the  earliest  things  which  a  per- 
son ought  to  find,  who  is  beginning  a  Christian  life,  should  be  some  confi- 
dential friends,  of  like  mind  with  himself,  to  whom  he  may  speak  of  his 
conflicts,  his  troubles,  his  temptations ;  and  with  whom  he  can  hold  pleas- 
urable and  intimate  fellowship,  such  as  he  does  not  with  his  ordinary 
acquaintances  in  the  world.  There  is  in  every  man  this  necessity  of  social 
life ;  and  the  more  there  is  of  it  in  him,  the  more  indispensable  it  will  al- 
ways bo  that  this  element  should  exist  in  his  religion.  There  are  men  who 
were  generous,  large,  cheerful,  and  happy  before  they  came  into  the  Church* 
but  who,  after  they  were  in,  grew  lean,  pinched,  poor,  and  unhappy.  They 
were  genial  and  attractive  before,  but  afterwards  no  body  else  seemed  to 
want  their  socieiy,  and  they  seemed  to  want  no  body  else's.  Whatever 
they  may  have  b«!en  before  their  church  connection,  they  contrived  after- 
wards to  drop  the  social  element  out  of  their  life ;  and  their  character,  taken 
as  a  whole,  has  less  symmetry  now  than  before.  It  does  violence  to  the 
design  of  God,  and  to  the  symmetrical  development  of  the  character  of  man, 
to  take  away  any  part  of  hunutn  nature. 

When  a  man  begins  a  Christian  life,  his  passions  are  not  to  run  riot,  or 
be  allowed  to  do  what  they  please;  yet  the  man  who  puts  out  the  fires  of 
passion,  because  he  has  become  a  Christian,  only  weakens  and  not  profits 
himself.  God  gave  them  to  man  for  good  uses.  They  are  to  be  regulated, 
controlled,  but  not  destroyed.  I  would  as  soon  think  of  putting  out  the 
fires  of  a  steamer  on  the  Ocean,  for  the  sake  of  making  a  good  voyage  to 
Liverpool,  as  to  put  out  the  passions  of  my  own  nature  for  the  sake  of  mak- 
ing a  good  voyage  to  heaven.  The  passions  were  meant  to  give  men  force, 
and  to  add  juice  and  power  to  the  soul.  No  man  can  afford  to  put  out  his 
mere  passional  nature,  still  less  can  he  afford  to  put  out  the  social  and  the 
imaginative  dement. 

To  become  a  Christian,  does  not  mean  that  you  are  to  creep  into  a  convent 


4 


25 


-I. 


\\ 


box,  or  to  b«  screwed  up  like  a  nuui  in  a  liring  coffin.  That  is  not  piet^. 
To  become  a  Obristian,  ig  to  bring  the  whole  nature  out  more  powerftilly 
than  ever  before,  to  take  all  the  fiusulties  that  God  gave  you  originally,  and 
which  have  been  going  to  waste  or  perversion,  and  so  to  bring  them  under 
the  dominion  of  God,  that  there  shall  not  be  a  loss  of  any  part  of  your  na- 
ture, but  that  all  your  powers  shall  work  together  in  accordance  with  the 
divine  plan,  being  all  controlled  and  guided  by  the  superior  element  of  spi- 
ritual love. 

The  mischief  of  doing  away  with  the  social  element  is  very  great,  and  wo 
are  very  liable  to  it  in  cities.  Young  men  who  find  themselves,  on  coming 
here  from  the  country,  in  undesirable  companionships,  coming,  as  they  fre- 
quently do,  with  a  religious  education,  only  to  forget  their  Bible,  and  re- 
maining here  for  years,  making  only  such  friends  as  they  would  not  acknow- 
ledge at  home — when  at  length  they  are  touched  by  the  Spirit  of  God  and 
begin  to  live  a  Christian  life,  and  when,  in  doing  it,  they  leave  off  their 
wicked  associates,  ought  immediately  to  see  to  it  that  they  find  new  and 
good  friends  to  itike  the  place  of  the  old  and  bad.  It  is  right  to  break  off 
from  wicked  associates.  If  they  are  plague-struck,  and  you  would  not  take 
it,  you  must  keep  clear  of  them.  If  they  offer  you  temptations  to  drinking, 
to  gambling,  or  to  any  thing  vicious  and  wicked,  it  is,  of  course,  best  that 
you  should  break  company  with  them,  and  no  longer  remain  their  associates. 
But  if  a  man  has  no  friend  to  take  the  place  of  these — if  there  are  no 
brothers,  no  sisters,  no  family  (blessed  be  the  family !  for  I  never  feel  so 
sure  about  young  converts,  as  when  I  find  out  that  they  are  living  in  the 
Christian  families  of  their  parents,  or  of  their  relatives  or  friends)— he 
should  set  about,  as  soon  as  possible,  finding  proper  Christian  associates 
and  confidents. 

Sometimes  I  ask  a  man  who  has  newly  become  a  Christian : 

"  Have  you  any  associates  in  the  Church  f" 

"None." 

"  Do  you  know  any  body  in  the  city." 

**  Nobody ;  except  that  I  am  in  the  store  of  a  Christian  merchant." 

Ah  I  yes  t  In  the  same  store  with  a  Christian  merchant  I  That  sounds 
very  well ;  but  after  all,  a  Christian  merchant  is  apt  to  be  only  a  merchant. 
The  clerk  is  to  have  so  much  a  month,  or  so  much  a  year,  and  the  Christian 
merchant  pays  this,  and  that  is  all  He  does  not  hire  him  with  a  perquisite 
of  visiting  his  family  I  He  does  not  undertake  to  be  a  father  to  him.  No ! 
That  don't  belong  to  a  Christian  merchant !  He  does  not  undertake  to  look 
after  his  clerks  in  any  such  way !  He  may  have  eighteen,  twenty,  twenty- 
five  young  men  in  his  employ,  every  one  of  whom  had  praying  £ftthers  and 
mothers,  and  whom  he  knows  to  be  touched  in  the  direction  of  a  religious 
life ;  yet  it  is  not  his  business  to  talk  to  them  on  such  subjects,  nor  to  give 
them  his  own  society— else  it  would  have  been  in  the  bargain  I 

The  young  man  is  in  the  store  of  a  Christian  merchant ;  but  that  does 
him  no  good.  He  is  obliged  to  say :  "  I  have  no  companionship."  He  is 
thus  compelled  to  begin  his  Christian  life  without  staff  or  stay.    It  is  very 


26 


important,  I  repeat,  that  wheu  men  become  Christians,  they  should  find 
company.  This  is  a  necessity -of,  human  nature.  Among  Christians  thero 
should  be  fellowship.  I  suppon^llut  this  was  the  reason  why  churches 
were  ordained.  When  you  turn  from  thtp;world,  to  go  toward  heaven,  you 
should  walk  together ;  you  should  hold  each  other  up :  you  should  know 
each  other ;  you  should  love  each  other ;  the  social  element  should  surround 
you,  and  should  work  itself  into  a  religious  element. 

6.  Many  persons  are  brought  into  great  discouragement  and  uncertainty 
as  to  what  they  shall  do,  because  they  have  mistaken  the  full  purport  of 
religion.  Instead  of  '*  breaking  oflf  sins  by  righteousness,"  they  have  sim- 
ply *'  broken  oflf  their  sins."  They  were  very  wicked  men,  who  supposed 
that  by  ceasing  to  be  wicked,  they  thereby  became  good.  No,  not  at  all ! 
This  can  not  be ! 

Suppose  a  man  has  a  gnarly  old  apple  tree  in  his  orchard — ^very  wide- 
spread and  rank  in  its  growth — ^with  every  apple  so  sour  as  scarcely  to  need 
fermentation  to  make  it  vinegar !  He  says :  "■  Now  I  am  going  to  have  bet- 
tor fruit  than  this."  And  he  takes  his  saw,  in  the  spring,  and  cuts  ofif  one 
branch  here,  and  another  there,  until  there  is  nothing  left  but  the  trunk. 

*'  There,"  he  says,  "  I  have  now  got  a  good  fruit  tree." 

He  is  now  rid  of  his  sour  fruit ;  but  he  has  not  yet  got  the  sweet  He 
must  now  graft  the  tree  with  some  choice  variety  that  he  may  select.  If  he 
makes  no  adequate  provision  for  this,  there  will  be  side-shoots,  or  water- 
sprouts  ;  and  tiiere  will  be  the  same  fruit-buds,  and  the  same  sour  apples 
over  again.  Some  men  think  they  have  become  Christians  because  they  do 
not  grow  any  more  sour  fruit ;  because  they  have  simply  broken  off  their  old 
wicked  courses — ^because  they  do  not  ride  out  of  town  anymore  on  Sundays 
— ^because  they  do  not  drink  any  more — ^because  they  do  not  gamble  any  more 
— ^because  they  have  left  oflf  swearing,  and  bad  company — ^because  they  do 
not  lie  and  cheat — any  more  than  is  necessary  in  this  wicked  world !  But 
men,  to  be  Christians,  must  be  more  than  this !  Simply  omitting  their 
wrong  coiurses  is  not  enough.  "  Cease  to  do  evil — learn  to  do  welV^  This 
is  the  command.  It  is  not  single,  but  double.  It  is  not  simply  to  break  oflf 
sin,  but  to  break  oflf  sin  by  righteousness.  It  is  not  only  to  cease  to  do 
wrong,  but  to  begin  to  do  right. 

If  a  man  has  bc^n  wicked,  the  way  for  him  most  eflfectually  to  break  ofif 
his  wickedness,  is  to  enter  now  upon  a  life  of  positive  goodness.  If  a  man 
has  been  very  active  in  wickedness,  he  ought,  for  his  own  safety,  after  his 
conversion,  to  be  proportionately  active  in  goodness.  It  will  not  do  for  him 
to  say:  ^ 

"  I  was  headlong  and  precipitate  in  evil ;  I  will  be  slow  rnd  cautious  in 
good." 

On  the  contrary,  a  wicked  man  of  great  force  of  character  ought,  after  he 
is  converted,  to  exert  all  that  force  of  character  for  good.  He  should  be 
just  as  ambitious  and  active  now  as  he  was  before,  only,  of  courue,  in  another 
direction.  A  man  who  ran  express  along  the  way  of  wickedness,  ought  not 
to  creep  along  the  way  of  goodnesa    If  I  seo  a  man  who  has  simply  broken 


^ 


1  *: 


« 


* 


d 


off  his  evil  habits,  I  say  to  myself,  it  is  very  do^btful  if  that  man  will  hold 
out.  But  if  he  has  not  only  broken  off  the  bad,  but  taken  on  the  good  in 
their  place,  he  is  then  in  the  fair  way  of  success.  If  he  has  gone  with  all 
sail  set  for  Satan,  and  then,  veering  around,  goes  with  all  sail  set  for  Christ, 
it  is  right  to  expect  that  such  a  man  will  succeed.  But  a  fat  sinner  should 
not  make  a  lean  Christian  ! 

The  same  is  true  of  persons  who  have  not  been  very  bad,  in  the  sense  of 
outbreaking  wickedness,  but  who  have  great  fullness  of  nature,  and  activity 
of  feeling.  I  meet,  in  social  life,  persons  of  whom  I  think — ^though  I  may 
not  say  it  in  words  to  them — somewhat  in  this  manner :  With  the  large- 
ness with  which  you  love — ^with  the  much  that  there  is  in  your  mind  and 
your  imagination — ^with  the  eagerness  of  your  will-power — with  the  fertility 
of  your  pride — with  your  prevailing  sense  of  self — with  all  these,  you  can 
never  be  a  happy  Christian  unless  you  are  an  eminent  one.  I  always  know 
that  such  persons  will  fall  into  embarrassments,  doubts,  disappointments, 
and,  ultimately,  into  discouragements.  I  know  not  a  few,  recently  intro- 
duced into  this  church,  who  are  now  in  this  pass.  They  are  going  through 
a  fermentation.  What  the  matter  is,  they  do  not  know.  Persons  of  a  full, 
large  nature,  when  they  attempt  to  be  Christians  by  serving  Christ  as  little 
as  possible,  will  necessarily  go  through  pain  and  signal  discipline  of  expe- 
rience, before  they  will  come  to  peace;  and  they  never  will  come  to  it,  till 
their  whole  soul  is  yielded  up  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  they  are  just 
as  active  for  good,  as  they  have  hitherto  been  for  selfishness. 

6.  The  neglect  to  consolidate  religious  feelings  into  habits  is  frequently 
an  occasion  of  discouragement,  because  it  leaves  men  subject  to  all  the  fluc- 
tuations of  feeling.  Feeling,  by  its  very  nature,  rises  and  fiiJls,  comes  and 
goes.  Emotions  are  like  the  leaves  of  a  tree.  Every  flourishing  tree  must 
have  both  its  solid  parts,  and  its  movable  and  tender  parts.  The  leaf  is  not 
made  merely  for  its  beauty,  nor  for  the  shade  which  it  casts  gratefully 
down,  at  mid-day,  in  summer.  Graceful  and  delicate  as  it  seems,  every  leaf 
is  a  laboratory.  On  its  surface,  the  crude  sap,  exposed  to  light  and  warmth, 
is  changed  to  organizable  matter ;  and  that  liquid  current  which  ascended 
the  interior  of  the  trunk,  when  leaf-touched,  descends  upon  its  exterior  sur- 
face, depositing  solid  matter,  all  the  way  down  to  the  root  again.  Thus 
those  tender  leaves,  which  any  child  may  crush  in  his  hand,  which  the  rude 
winds  may  easily  blow  away,  are  silently  and  constantly  building  stronger 
in  every  branch,  and  stouter  in  every  fibre  of  the  trunk,  that  solid  frame  of 
the  tree,  which  time  can  scarcely  wear  out,  and  winds  and  storms  beat  upon 
in  vain !  They  are  taking  away  from  the  movable  and  fragile  part  of  the 
tree,  to  add  to  the  firm  and  immovable  part  Now,  feeling  is  like  a  leaf. 
It  should  organize  habits.  It  should  consolidate  transient  tendencies  into 
abiding  and  enduring  experiences.  It  should  take  what  at  first  are  fluctuat- 
ing emotions,  and  turn  them  into  settled  habits.  That  is  only  a  miserable 
type  of  Christian  life,  which  comes  and  goes  with  moods  and  feelings.  But 
in  this  way,  mary  Christians  fight  the  same  battles  over  and  over  again, 
year  after  year,  and,  thus  at  the  end  of  forty  years,  find  that  they  are 


38 


straggling  with  the  same  tendencies  and  temptations  which  they  encoun- 
tered at  the  beginning  I  They  go,  year  after  year,  the  same  round  of  weari- 
some and  discouraging  temptations,  either  weakly  yielding  to  them,  or  else 
contending  against  them  with  doubtful  battle.  On  the  other  hand,  a  Christ- 
ian whose  fluctuating  feelings  are  brought  to  crystallize  into  settled  habits, 
will  gain  new  victories  as  he  gains  new  strength,  day  by  day ! 

7.  Many  men  are  convicted  of  sin  less  deeply  at  the  beginning  of  their 
Christian  life,  than  long  after  their  conversion ;  and  this  not  only  alarms 
but  seriously  discourages  them.  They  do  not  feel  as  they  once  did,  nor  as 
they  expected  they  always  would.  As  their  conception  of  duty  is  being 
raised,  they  find  that  their  self-complacency  is  being  disturbed.  Such  per- 
sons, sometimes,  instead  of  becoming  happier,  as  they  should,  become  less 
happy. 

In  certain  natures  (which  I  shall  not  now  stop  to  analyze)  the  introduc- 
tion of  a  new  and  higher  standard  into  the  mind,  throws  all  the  feelings  out 
of  balance,  and  makes  an  unexpectedly  great  resistance.  In  many  persons, 
while  they  are  living  by  the  average  standard  of  morality  that  exists  in  the 
community,  their  nature  seems  to  be  tranquil,  and  they  get  along  very  well, 
and  with  very  little  trouble.  But,  when  they  introduce  a  higher  standard, 
and  undertake  to  live  by  that,  they  immediately  arouse  within  themselves 
elements  of  rebellion,  surprising  to  them  and  to  all  who  know  them.  Some 
Christians  rise  from  the  lower  grounds  of  experience,  by  an  easy  and  natural 
progress,  happy  in  the  beginning,  and  happy  at  each  spiral  which  they 
make  in  their  upward  flight  Like  the  sky-lark,  some  notes  they  murmur 
on  the  ground,  but  their  song  really  begins  only  when,  with  out-spread 
wing,  in  circles  growing  wider  and  higher,  they  reach  up  far  above  the 
hearing  of  men !  But  there  are  others  who,  like  timid  forest  birds,  driven 
out  by  the  hunter,  seem  never  so  much  lost  as  when  they  are  far  up  above 
all  covert  or  thicket,  in  the  open  and  unobstructed  space.  Their  fears  chase 
them  as  hawks,  nor  have  they  one  note  till  they  can  hide  darkling  again  in 
the  green  thicket 

In  regard  to  all  these  instances — ^and  there  are  others  which  might  be 
mentioned,  if  time  would  permit — let  me  say,  first,  that,  simply  because  you 
have  experienced  difficulties  which  you  did  not  expect,  or  because  you  are 
faint  and  discouraged,  you  must  not  allow  yourselves  to  go  back.  It  is  not 
a  question  of  mere  accomplishment,  to  be  determined  by  your  own  volition. 
If  a  man  proposes  to  make  a  tour  of  the  continent  of  Europe,  and  on  reach- 
ing London  or  Paris,  prefers,  for  some  reason,  to  turn  back  instead  of  going 
further,  he  may  do  it,  without  either  losing  character  or  incurring  reproach. 
His  own  pleasure  determines  what  he  shall  do — whether  to  go  one  way  or 
the  other — ^whether  to  come  home  from  Florence  or  go  on  to  Rome — whether 
to  come  home  from  Rome  or  go  on  to  the  East  But  when  a  man  begins  his 
journey  toward  heaven,  it  is  not  optional  with  him,  at  any  point  of  the  way, 
to  turn  back.  It  is  his  duty  to  go  on  I  It  is  a  question  not  only  of  honor, 
but  of  safety,  to  continue.  Being  a  Christian  is  not  the  same  as  making 
money,  of  which  a  man  can  make  more  or  less,  as  he  chooses,  and  then  stop 


29 


N 


—although  ho  does  not  usually  wish  to  stop.  To  be  a  Christian  is  to  begin 
and  not  stop ;  it  is  to  put  the  hand  to  the  plough,  and  not  look  back.  If  a 
man  is  called,  in  the  providence  of  God,  to  begin  a  Christian  life,  in  which 
he  succeeds  very  well  for  a  time,  but  afterwards  finds  clouds  and  darkness 
gathering  about  him,  he  must  think  only  of  going  on,  and  never  for  a  mo- 
ment of  going  back.  To  return  would  be  perilous,  as  well  as  disgraceflil. 
If  he  droops  and  is  weary  in  the  piursuit  of  the  right,  and  turns  aside  from 
the  search,  he  is  giving  way  to  what  will  inevitably  lead  him,  by  and  by, 
into  still  greater  doubt,  difficulty,  and  discouragement  If  you  give  up  try- 
ing now,  trusting  in  your  Christian  hope  to  lift  you,  by  and  by,  out  of  the 
marsh,  upon  solid  ground,  you  will  never  be  lifted  out  The  condition  of 
your  final  triumph  is  that  you  are  willing  to  struggle  all  the  time  that  may 
be  required  to  win  it  If  you  find  it  hard  now  to  bring  your  heart  into 
obedience  to  Christ,  what  will  be  your  later  experience,  when  your  diffi- 
culties will  be  greater  and  greater,  and  your  strength  to  overcome  them  less 
and  less  ?  It  never  will  be  so  easy  again,  as  now,  to  persevere  in  the  Christ- 
ian life.  To  conform  to  the  Christian  requisition  will  be  harder  and  harder, 
the  longer  you  put  it  off.  The  earliest  months  of  campaigning,  of  studying, 
of  learning  a  trade,  are  the  most  difficult  months.  From  this  point  onward 
the  way  grows  smoother  and  easier.  And  in  like  manner,  in  beginning  a 
Christian  life,  the  chief  difficulties  are  at  the  threshold. 

There  is  a  remarkable  contrast  in  this  respect,  between  right  and  wrong- 
doing— ^between  virtue  and  vice :  to  do  right  is  harder  at  first,  than  it  ever 
will  be  afterwards ;  it  grows  easier  and  easier  to  the  end.  To  do  wron^ 
involves  few  difficulties  at  first,  but  more  and  more  every  day,  until  its  end 
is  destruction.  Pleasure  invites  us  to  flowery  paths  only  for  the  first  part 
of  the  journey ;  all  the  rest  of  the  way  it  grows  less  and  less  beantifbl,  and 
more  and  more  dangerous.  Virtue  calls  us,  for  the  first  few  steps,  over  a 
stony  road,  which  grows  less  and  less  rugged,  and  more  and  more  easy  to 
the  end.  Men  enter  wrong  courses  through  the  gate  of  sweet  blandishments, 
but  as  they  go  on,  they  find  that  all  the  promises,  at  the  beginning,  were 
false  and  deceitful.  The  "narrow  way"  is  entered  through  the  "strait 
gate,"  but  the  path  is  the  path  of  the  just,  and  is  as  a  shining  light  that 
shines  brighter  and  brighter  unto  the  perfect  day  I  The  beginning  of  the 
one  is  fiiir,  but  its  end  is  death.  The  beginning  of  the  other  is  less  comely, 
but  its  end  is  eternal  life. 

The  early  steps  of  a  Christian  life  are  the  most  rugged.  The  tasks  of  a 
Christian  are  never  so  severe  and  forbidding  as  at  the  first  The  farther  end 
of  the  Christian  life  is  the  easier.  We  begin  a  worldly  life  by  going  down 
a  slope,  whose  first  descent  is  easy ;  but  as  80<»i  as  we  are  in  the  valley, 
behold !  mountains  rise  up  on  either  side.  We  begin  the  Christian  life  by 
going  up  hill,  and  with  hard  climbing ;  but  by  and  by  we  come  to  the  level 
plams  and  table  lands  at  the  top,  where  the  way  is  easy,  where  the  air  is 
pure,  and  where  we  are  lifted  up  high  above  the  dust,  and  noise,  and  conflict 
of  the  lower  life. 

Take  courage,  then,  in  the  thought  that  your  work  is  harder  now  than  it 


30 


' 


ever  will  be  again ;  that  the  more  vigorously  you  begin,  the  more  success- 
fully you  will  finish ;  that  the  more  severe  your  discipline  is  at  first,  the 
easier  will  your  trials  be  at  last ;  that  the  heavier  your  burdens  are  now, 
the  stronger  you  will  be  to  bear  them  by  and  by,  and  the  lighter  they  will 
be  to  bear.  He  who  is  willing  to  take  the  hardest  way  at  first,  will,  in  that 
very  choice,  find  for  himself  the  easiest  way  in  the  end  I 

If  it  be  any  encouragement  to  know  that  those  who  have  been  tasked  as 
you,  tempted  as  you,  tried  as  you,  discouraged  as  you,  wearied  as  you,  faint 
as  you,  have  nevertheless  persevered  unto  victory — take  that  encouragement, 
and  go  on  in  your  way  rejoicing !  If  any  of  you  have  been  tempted  to 
swerve,  cease  your  faint-heartedness,  and  remember  that  nothing  strange 
has  be&Uen  you  1  You  are  suffering  only  such  temptations  as  have  befall- 
en all  God's  children,  and  you  may  be  sure  that  he  will  not  suffer  you  to  be 
tempted  more  than  you  are  able  to  bear  I  I  suppose  that  there  is  not  one 
saint  who  now  stands  elate  and  jubilant  in  heaven,  who  could  not  narrate 
experience  equivalent  to  yours.  It  would  be  different  in  form,  but  the 
same  in  substance.  It  would  show  the  same  necessity  of  toils  and  burdens, 
of  discipline  and  trial,  of  struggle  and  conflict  1  It  may  not  be  a  great 
comfort  to  know  that  they  who  went  before  you  were  embarrassed  and  per- 
plexed ;  but  it  is  a  comfort  to  know  that  your  difBculties  and  embarrass- 
ments are  not  because  you  are  not  a  Christian,  and  that  they  are  incident  to 
all  Christian  life ! 

When  men  come  to  swollen  streams,  which  they  must  needs  foru,  they 
look  with  troubled  face  upon  the  wide  and  rapid  water ;  and  it  is  a  great 
comfort  to  see  firesh  hoof-marks  along  the  bank,  which  show  that  other 
travellers  have  recently.crossed  that  way.  They  drive  down  to  the  water's 
edge,  but  still  dreading  to  venture  in,  look  at  the  foam  and  the  anger  of  the 
torrent,  fearful  that  sudden  freshets,  loosed  from  the  moiuitain  side,  may 
have  over-swollen  it.  since  its  passage  by  those  who  are  ahead.  They  hear 
the  sound  of  voices  on  the  other  side,  of  men  whom  they  can  not  see,  in 
that  dense  forest,  yet  who  have  just  gone  over  the  river,  and  are  not  yet  out 
of  hailing  distance.  The  tremulous  men  at  the  brink  call  out :  "  Ho !  stran- 
gers, is  the  river  passable  f "  And  as  the  sound  dies  away  among  the  forest 
trees,  the  salute  is  answered,  as  with  an  echo :  "  We  have  just  crossed  t  All 
safe  I — Co^iie  on !"  At  this  summons,  they  step  in,  but  in  a  moment  the 
water  grows  deeper,  and  the  roar  of  the  flood  is  more  fearful  I  Every  man 
among  them  is  bewildered.  The  stoutest  heart  quails.  The  water  is  already 
pattering  around  the  flanks  of  the  horses,  and  is  getting  deeper  and  deeper 
every  moment  The  foremost  rider  looks  around  almost  as  if  he  would  go 
back  I  Ah  I  my  fkiend,  you  can  not  go  back  now  t  It  is  perilous  to  turn 
round  in  a  ford.  It  is  as  easy  to  go  all  the  way  over  to  the  other  side,  as  to 
go  back  firom  where  you  started !  They  begin  to  be  more  alarmed ;  but  the 
men  already  over,  who  have  come  back  again  to  the  bank  to  see  how  those 
who  are  following  them  may  fare,  smile  to  see  the  fear  that  is  written  upon 
their  troubled  faces.  The  water  is  above  the  saddles,  and  is  careering  over 
the  horses*  backs.    Every  man  now  says  to  himself:  "  It  is  swim  or  drown ; 


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I  must  go  through  or  go  under."  But  the  foremost  man  has  passed  the 
centre  of  the  channel,  where  the  water  begins  to  lick  the  backs  of  the 
horses  less  and  less,  and  to  subside  along  the  ribs  down  toward  the  stir- 
rups !  He  shouts  out  to  the  rest :  "  Ho !  I  am  past  the  channel !  Gome 
on  1"  The  worst  will  soon  be  over.  In  all  the  rest  of  his  passage,  be  is 
rising,  at  every  step,  higher  and  higher  out  of  the  flood,  and  is  coming 
nearer  and  nearer  the  opposite  bank.  The  rest  that  are  behind,  take  new 
hope,  and  plunge  into  the  channel  as  though  they  had  at  first  feared  no  dan- 
ger, and  all  reach  in  safety  the  other  shore ! 

0  Christian  I  standing  in  fear  by  the  side  of  the  flood,  fearing  to  enter 
in,  and  cross  to  the  other  shore,  others  who  have  gone  before  are  standing 
on  those  distant  shores,  and  calling  out  to  you  to  "  take  courage  and  plunge 
into  the  wave  t"  The  voices  of  friends  are  calling  on  the  other  side :  "  Come 
over,  come  over  1"  The  voices  of  companions,  the  voices  of  children  who 
have  passed  safely  through ;  the  voices  of  parents  long  gone  over ;  the  voice 
of  the  loved  and  lost — ^lost  on  this  side  but  saved  on  the  other — are  calling 
out  across  the  stream :  "  Come  over !  come  over !"  Angels  and  shining  ones 
stand  with  them  on  the  bank,  and  mingle  their  voices  with  these,  saying 
and  beckoning  I  "  Come  over !  come  over !" 

The  testimony  of  all  who  have  tried  the  stream  is  but  one  unanimous 
voice :  "  We  came  over  safe !    We  came  over  safe  1" 

O  Christian!  faint  not,  but  follow  aftei:!  A  little  more  fording,  and 
you  shall  find  that  the  waters,  instead  of  growing  deeper,  will  grow  less 
deep ;  and  you  will  rise  out  of  the  flood  and  stand  safe  upon  the  other 
shore  I  Do  not  be  discouraged,  therefore,  because  you  are  not  yet  landed. 
Do  not  faint  because  you  are  yet  in  the  struggle.  You  shall  by  and  by  be 
across  the  channel  and  over  the  stream,  and  stand  victorious  on  the  other 
side  1  May  God  grant  to  every  one  of  you  the  victory  through  Christ,  our 
hope  and  our  Redeemer  I    Amen ! 


